


The Roommates

by javajunkie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, roommates au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:49:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: When Betty's boyfriend cheats on her, she moves into an apartment with Jughead, Archie and Reggie.  New Girl - Riverdale style.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to try my hand at a roommates story! This first chapter is heavily influenced by New Girl. It will be less so as the story progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

Betty never expected to find an apartment off of Craigslist, but after she stumbled on her boyfriend of nearly five years cheating on her with the girl from the cheese counter at Whole Foods, Betty suddenly found herself in need of a new apartment.  Her friend, Veronica, immediately offered, promising that she would never frequent the Whole Foods cheese counter again.

            “I appreciate that,” Betty said.  “I know how much you love their gouda.”

            Betty moved in for a week, but knew that it was only a temporary fix.  She and Veronica didn’t exactly have compatible living styles, and Veronica’s current boyfriend, Trent, had a penchant for naked late night snacks, which brought Betty to Craigslist, anxiously searching for the next available apartment.

            Most of the advertisements made Betty fairly certain she’d be video recorded in her sleep, but she found a loft that seemed normal enough.  She sent a quick message extolling her better roommate virtues (doesn’t mind cleaning up after others, quiet sleeper, no strong TV preferences) and strategically leaving out her reason for needing a new apartment.  She got a message back within 24 hours asking to meet, and Veronica sent her off into the morning with strict instructions to text her when she got there and when she left.

            “My best friend is not getting _Taken_ ,” Veronica said.  “If anyone tries anything, casually mention that I have mob connections.”

            “You don’t have mob connections.”

            “They don’t know that.”

            The loft was about a twenty-minute train ride from Veronica’s apartment, and Betty’s stomach twisted with nerves the entire way.  She had no reason for wanting this to work out, but she did, anyway.  She was ready to move on from her asshat of a boyfriend, who had the nerve to ask _her_ not to make a scene when she caught another woman naked in her bed, and finding a new apartment felt like a definitive step forward.  A step away from her shitty life and toward something new.  Something _better_.

            The loft was on the third floor, and Betty found out quickly that there was no elevator.  She trudged up the steps, hoping that she wouldn’t be too winded when she met them.  Finally, she reached the third floor, and Betty paused outside the door to text Veronica.  Her breath came out in sharp, hard spurts. 

 

_I’m at the loft.  Wish me luck!_

            Betty collected herself for a moment before knocking on the door.  A few seconds later it opened to reveal a red head in a simple tshirt and jeans.  He smiled at her and said, “I’m guessing you’re Betty?”

            She nodded, glancing past him into the apartment.  It looked tidy.  Good start.

            “I’m Archie.  Come on in.  We’re all excited to meet you.”

            Betty followed him, surprised to see two other guys sitting in the living room.  One was clad in mesh shorts and a sleeveless sweatshirt, his arms bulging on either side of him.  He greeted her with an upward nod of his chin.  Across from him on the chair was a wiry male with a grey beanie crammed over a mess of black hair.  His hand was shoved deep into a bag of chips.

            “Are these your roommates?”  Betty asked hesitantly. 

            “Yeah, that’s Reggie – “ the one with the arms gave her a sort of salute “ – and the one with the chips is Jughead.”

            “Nice to meet you all,” Betty said primly.  “Um, so, there are no girls here?”  Archie looked at her strangely.  “I just thought from the advertisement…”

            “Dammit, man, I thought you were going to change it after the last person,” Reggie said.

            “Apparently Archie here favors the female voice when he writes,” Jughead explained to a rather stricken Betty. 

            “So, it’s all of you…guys…” Betty said uncertainly.

            “Our old roommate left town to do his residency out in LA,” Archie explained.  “So, we’re trying to find someone to take his room.  I understand if living with all guys seems a bit weird, but we’re all pretty normal.  We’re relatively clean.”

            “You all seem very nice,” Betty began, already gearing up to return to Craigslist for another apartment listing.  “But –“

            “Why are you looking for a place?”  Jughead interrupted.

            “Why am I?  Oh, um, my lease was just up,” she said off-handedly.  “So, here we are.  Anyway-“

            “I don’t buy it.”

            Betty blinked rapidly, surprised by his forwardness, and stammered, “Excuse me?”

            Jughead leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs.  “I don’t buy it.  What really happened?”

            Betty swallowed uncomfortably and Archie said, “You don’t have to tell us.”

            “Why not?”  Jughead pressed.  “If she’s going to move in with us we have a right to know.”

            “I’m with Jug here,” Reggie said, utterly delighted by the drama unfolding.  “What’s the deal?”

            Betty’s crossed her arms over her chest tightly and said, “If you must know, I lived with my boyfriend before, and last week I walked in on him cheating on me.”  Betty felt the careful control with which she handled most situations strip away as she continued.  “He cheated on me with a woman who sells cheese for a living, and she’s not even good at it.  She consistently messes up gouda with brie.”

            “Those are really different cheeses,” Jughead piped in.

            “Right?”  Betty said emphatically.  “So, anyway, I moved out and moved in with my best friend, but I’m pretty sure if we lived together we’d implode, which I really don’t want to happen because she’s pretty much the closest person I have in the city since my boyfriend decided to screw the cheese lady, so…,” Betty took a deep breath, “…here we are.”

            “I was wondering when you’d take a breath during that,” Reggie said.

            “I’m sorry,” Betty said, cheeks flushing.  “I get a little carried away whenever I tell that story.  It’s a bit fresh.”

            “That guy sounds like a jerk,” Archie said.  “You’re better off without him.”

            Jughead was quiet for a moment, seemingly considering her story, and she set him with a somewhat pointed look as she asked, “Do you buy _that_?”

            He scratched at the underside of his chin.  “I’m with Archie.  The guy’s a jerk.  You can move in whenever you want.”

            “Wait, really?” she asked in surprise.  “Don’t you guys have to discuss it first or something?”

            Jughead glanced around at his roommates and asked, “Any objections?”

            “Nah, I’m good,” Reggie said. 

            “We’d be happy to have you,” Archie told her.  “Provided you’re still interested.”

            Betty hadn’t expected to be offered an apartment so quickly, particularly from one with three men.  But she felt remarkably comfortable around them, and she could only accidentally run into naked Trent so many times before she developed some permanent neurological damage.

            “How does tomorrow work?”

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty thought that distance from her cheating ex-boyfriend would help heal the wounds, but in her new apartment with her new roommates, she found herself constantly going back to that moment when she discovered them, panic flooding her chest as the entire life she built for herself disappeared.  So, Betty did what she always did when in a panic.

            She cleaned.  Aggressively.

            The boys watched hesitantly from the living room, speaking in low tones as Betty scrubbed the stove top with an unsettling vengeance. 

            “I’m all for getting some free cleaning, but this is getting out of hand,” Reggie said.  “She’s blocking the way to my blender.  And I need my protein shakes.  You know what happens when I don’t get my protein shakes.”

            “You think that’s bad?  She rearranged my DVD collection,” Jughead said unhappily.  “It took me years to formulate the proper sorting system and she went ahead and put them in _alphabetical_ order.”

            “Calm down, guys.  She’s going through something,” Archie said.  Betty loudly removed the oven grates, and Archie winced.  “Okay.  Maybe we should do something.”

            “I got this,” Reggie said, straightening up.  He walked over toward her and said, “Hey, Betty…”

            She looked up at him quickly, steel wool clutched tightly in her hand, and he blanched.

“You just, uh, keep doing what you’re doing,” he said, backing away from her.  “The kitchen looks great."

He returned to Archie and Jughead, and the latter said, “Great job there, Reg.”

“She’s terrifying like this.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Archie said.  “We’re her roommates.  We should be helping her.”

“Let’s get her out of the apartment,” Jughead offered.  “Away from anything she can clean.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Archie said. 

 

* * *

 

 

            “This was not a good idea,” Archie said, watching Betty at the bar surrounded by a crowd of men.  She was several drinks in, and while she seemed sturdy enough on her bar stool, Archie didn’t want to see what happened next if that changed.  “Should one of us go over there?”

            “She’s fine,” Jughead said, taking a pull from his beer.  “Just let her be.”

            “Oh shit, no, one of us needs to go over there,” Reggie said, gesturing toward the newest addition to Betty’s bevy of men. 

            “Chuck Clayton,” Jughead said unhappily.  “I thought he moved to Iowa or something.”

            “God I hate that guy,” Reggie muttered, before walking over to Betty and saying, “Chuck, my man, how are you?”

            “Hey Reg, long time no see,” Chuck said.

            “This is my roommate, Reginald,” Betty said, her voice lilting and fluid.  “He drinks an impressive number of protein shakes.”

            Chuck smirked.  “Is that so, Reginald?”

            “So, Betty, maybe want to come join your roommates?”  Reggie asked. 

            Betty nodded, sliding off the stool and taking a hold of Reggie’s arm.  Before they walked away, she turned back to Chuck and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “Tomorrow,” Chuck said, eyes dancing.  “See you then.”

            Betty hurried off to their table, and Reggie murmured, “This is not going to end well.”

 

* * *

 

            “Are you sure you’re ready to go on a date?”  Veronica asked Betty, helping her get ready for her dinner with Chuck.  “It’s only been a few weeks since you and Rob broke up.”

            “This is what people do,” Betty said, brushing blush onto her cheeks.  “They go out.”

            “I just don’t want you to rush things,” Veronica said, leaning forward and brushing a stray eyelash off of Betty’s cheek.  “It’s okay to just be sad for a bit.”

            “This will be good,” Betty said.  She took a deep breath and said, “How do I look?”

            “This Chuck guy isn’t going to know what hit him.”

            Betty stood up and followed Veronica out into the living room, where the boys were engaged in a remarkably serious game of Mario Kart.  Archie glanced over at Betty and a slow grin spread on his face.  She was wearing a pink dress with a slim orange belt around her waist.  She paired it with matching flats and a cream cardigan.

            “Wow, Betty, you look really nice.”

            “There’s a weird string on your cardigan,” Jughead said.

            Veronica narrowed her eyes and murmured, “Guy with the beanie - you need to work on your social skills.”

            “He’s aware,” Reggie added.

            “So, boys, I am relying on you to make sure that my best friend makes it home tonight,” Veronica announced.  “If any of you fail in this, I will personally ruin everything you love and hold dear.  Any questions?”

            “I’ll be fine,” Betty said, knocking her elbow against Veronica’s arm affectionately.  “It’s just dinner.  What could go wrong?”

            “You shouldn’t ask open ended questions like that,” Jughead said.

            “Anyway, I should get going,” Betty said, excitement flooding her stomach.  “I don’t want to be late.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty drummed her fingers on the table, trying not to glance at her phone, but doing it anyway.  Twenty minutes past seven, and there were no calls, no texts.  No explanation for why she was sitting by herself at a restaurant on a Friday night while other people around her sat on their dates, pitifully looking over at her, the girl getting stood up.  Betty waited for another ten minutes before she got up, morosely flagging down a cab and climbing in the back.  She called Veronica.

            “I feel like such an idiot,” Betty said.  “He didn’t even show.”

            “Wait, are you serious?  That little shit.”

            “I don’t know why I expected anything different,” Betty said, wiping at her nose.  “This is who I am.  The person who gets…left behind.  First, Rob, now tonight.”

            “Okay, first of all, this Chuck guy is just a jerk.  There is no other explanation.  And Rob is a fucking coward who never deserved you.  Don’t let two ass holes make you doubt yourself.  You are beautiful and smart and any man would be lucky to breath the same air as you, Betty Cooper.”

            Betty leaned her head back against the seat, wanting to believe Veronica, but having difficulty with it.

            “Do you want to come here?”  Veronica asked.  “Trent’s away for the night.”

            “No,” Betty sighed.  “I just want to go home.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yeah.  But thank you.”  Betty reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I think my bed is the best thing for me right now.”

            “Okay.  Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me.”

            “Thanks, V.  I’ll talk to you later.”

            “Okay.  Love you.”

            “You too.”

            Betty hung up and looked out the window, trying not to feel as low as her circumstances were taking her.  She didn’t know why she was so upset, she hadn’t even liked Chuck that much.  She barely knew him, and his grandiose personality was somewhat off putting, but she’d liked the attention.  After feeling overlooked by Rob, it felt good to be seen.

            The cab stopped in front of her apartment and Betty paid the fare, adding a heavy tip, before heading upstairs.  She unlocked the door and walked in, surprised to find her roommates setting up the kitchen table.  There was a fresh bottle of red uncorked and Reggie was in the process of lighting a variety of half-burned scented candles.

            “What are you guys doing?” she asked slowly.

            “Making you dinner,” Archie said from the stove.  “The selection was a bit limited, but we have pizza bagels in the toaster oven.  Some tater tots cooking in the oven.”

            “And for dessert, leftover Halloween candy,” Jughead said.

            “Halloween was six months ago,” Betty said.

            “Like I said,” Jughead returned, dumping the candy into a bowl.  “It’s leftover.”

            Betty clutched her purse to her waist.  “Veronica called you, didn’t she?”

            Jughead hesitated beside her, but then nodded.  “Yeah, she called.”

            “We’re really sorry about tonight,” Jughead said.  He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her.  Betty glanced around the room.  Archie at the toaster oven.  Reggie ineffectively lighting a Home Sweet Home candle.  Somehow, from one of the lowest points of her life, Betty found herself a new family.  She turned back to Jughead.

            “You know, it’s actually turned out pretty nice.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your feedback was insane!!! Thank you so much!

Betty walked out of her bedroom, tugging on the bottom of her white shirt as she tried to rub out a toothpaste stain with her thumb.  She heard the boys having breakfast in the kitchen, and idly looked up to find Reggie trying to force Jughead to drink a protein shake.

            “Come on man, you could use some bulking up.”

            “Get that away from me,” Jughead returned, swatting the shake away. 

            “Winter is coming, dude.  You need to pack on some.  You know I’m right.  I see how many blankets you sleep with at night.”

            “Why do you know that?”  Jughead said with slight outrage.

            “Hey, guys, what’s going on?”  Betty asked gingerly, walking over to the coffee maker to pour herself a cup of coffee.  Archie was at the refrigerator, searching for something in the unorganized depths, and he told her, “Reggie is concerned for Jughead’s lack of muscle development.  Jughead doesn’t care.  It’s pretty much that exchange for fifteen minutes.”

            “Huh, interesting.”

            Betty poured herself a cup of coffee, a bit splashing up on the front of her shirt. 

            “Come _on_ ,” she grumbled.  She just got rid of the other stain, and now she had another.  She quickly wet a napkin and got to work on the light tan splatter currently forming a nice caffeinated constellation on her shirt. 

            “Uh, Betty, don’t take this the wrong way,” Jughead began slowly, which in Betty’s experience typically meant she was going to take it the wrong way, “but didn’t you wear that shirt yesterday?”

            “Yes, but I wore it with my polka dot skirt and a cardigan,” she returned crisply.  “Today, it’s with jeans.  Totally different outfit.”

            “Yeah, but it’s the same shirt.  That you’ve worn, like, six times in the past two weeks.”

            “Yes, and?”

            “I think he’s saying it’s time to get the rest of your stuff from Rob,” Archie said tentatively.

            “I’m going to go,” Betty said defensively.  When she left Rob’s apartment she was in a bit of a rush, and only packed a suitcase with the essentials.  Despite being out of his apartment for over a month, she hadn’t been able to work up the courage to go back.  “Just, not yet.  Is it really bothering you so much that I wear the same clothes a lot?”

            “It’s not just about the clothes,” Reggie said.  Betty looked at him expectantly and he said, “You also promised us a French press for coffee when you moved in.  French press coffee is dope, Betty.  Where’s the French press?”

            “Rob’s,” she returned softly.

            “Exactly.”

            “Okay, this is about more than material items, actually,” Jughead said slowly, shooting Reggie a look who only shrugged in response as he slammed back his protein shake.  “It’s about a clean break.  That guy is a jerk and as long as he has your things you’re not done with him.  Don’t you want a clean break?”

            Betty didn’t know how to answer that.  She never wanted to break up with Rob in the first place, so why would she determine the type of break? 

            “Jughead’s right, Betts,” Archie said.  “You need to get your stuff back.  Then you can have closure.”

            Betty took a deep breath.  “Okay, I’m going.  Today.  I’ll go today.  It’s probably a good thing, anyway.  Living with only a week’s worth of underwear is not easy.”

            “A week?”  Reggie sputtered.  “You don’t do laundry nearly enough or a week’s worth of underwear.”

            “I’m going,” Betty said with more conviction than she actually felt.  “This’ll be good.”

 

BBBBB

 

            It was strange being back in her apartment.  It looked exactly the same.  It even smelled the same – a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla.  It made sense, considering he was still using her Yankee wall plug-in.  There was still so much of her in the apartment.  The painting from the one time she convinced him to go to a Wine and Painting party.

            _“Why do your trees look like weird blobs?”_

_“That is a very good question, Rob.”_

            The flowers on the kitchen table.  Her shoes, still tidily lined up next to the front door.  She noticed a book out on the coffee table and recognized it as one she recommended right before they broke up.

            “You still went out and bought it?”  she asked in a small voice.

            “Well, yeah, you were always really good at that type of stuff,” Rob returned, smiling shyly.  “I’m not too far, but I like it.”

            “I’m glad.”

            “You look good,” Rob said after a moment.  “Your hair’s different, though.”

            Betty’s hands flew to her head.  “Oh, yeah, I wear it down more now.  You know, you were right about all those headaches I got before.  I think it was from the ponytails.”

            Rob laughed.  “I told you.  Anyway, the new look works on you.  You look really good.”

            “You too,” Betty said, feeling an overwhelming urge to step forward and close the distance between them.  She thought he was looking at her with that same sort of barely concealed yearning, but then he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, I’ll help you get your stuff together.”

            “Oh, okay,” she stammered.  “Thank you.”

            As they packed up their life together they reminisced, Betty trying to hold it together as their hands brushed and it felt like a million butterflies hatched in her stomach.  How could he still have this effect on her after everything that happened?  She tried to remind herself of what she saw.  He cheated on her and it happened on the bed where they were now folding her clothes.  He cheated on her.  He cheated on her.  He –

            “Betts, hold still,” Rob said, reaching forward and taking a hold of her face.  She didn’t dare move, or even breath, afraid that she would ruin whatever was about to happen.  “You’ve got an eyelash right under your eye.  Close your eyes, okay?”

            “Okay,” she whispered, eyes drifting shut.

            She heard a soft intake of breath and then his warm breath bathed her face. 

            “It’s all good,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.  “You can open up.”

            She opened her eyes and blinked slowly, surprised by the sudden empty space in front of her.  She glanced to the side and saw Rob putting the last bits of clothes into her suitcase.     

            “Alright, I think you’re all set.”

            Betty stood up front of the edge of the bed, her knees wobbly.  “I just need to grab the French press.”

            “Oh, you’re taking that?”  he asked uncertainly.

            “Yeah, my roommate is pretty insistent.  It was sort of one of the terms of my moving in.  Well, not really.  It was more of an unspoken term.”

            “How can you have unspoken terms?”

            She followed him out of their bedroom and said, “I’m still figuring that one out myself.”

            Rob grabbed what looked like a well-used French press off the counter and handed it to her.  Their fingers brushed again and Betty wrapped her hands tightly around the coffee machine.

            “Thank you, Rob.”

            “No problem.  So, I guess this is it.”

            Betty nodded, wanting nothing more than to unpack her bags and stay here forever.  This is where she belonged, not back at the loft.  Yes, he made mistakes.  They both did.  She ruined a whole load of his laundry once because she missed a bright red sock. 

            “Hey, are you going to your sister’s art opening tonight?”  he asked.

            “Yeah, I am,” Betty said, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “Are you?”

            He nodded and she felt her stomach flip.  “I actually was going to ask if your sister would be okay with me bringing another person.”

            “Another person?”  Betty stammered.

            “Yeah, Tamara is obsessed with her work.”

Betty’s mind flashed to a Whole Foods name tag.

“You want to bring Tamara to my sister’s art opening?” 

“Well, yeah, that’s not a problem, right?”

Betty swallowed hard, her deeply ingrained manners rearing their polite and ugly heads as she told him, “That’s not a problem.  Not at all.  I think it’s great.  The more the merrier, right?”

He grinned wide.  “Awesome, thanks Betts.  I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah,” she said weakly.  “See you tonight.”

 

BBBB

 

“You invited the cheese lady to your sister’s art opening?”  Jughead asked in disbelief.  “Why would you do that?”

“No, I did not invite her,” Betty said methodically.  “He asked if he could bring her and I said okay.”

“Why would you do _that_?”

“Because I’m a nice person!”  Betty shot back.  “And what was I supposed to do?  I can’t ban her from coming to a public place.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe suggest that you don’t want the person that your ex cheated on you with anywhere near you.”

“Look, it’s fine,” Betty said.  “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine,” Reggie called out from the kitchen.  “I’ve already heard Wilson Phillip’s _Hold On_ play from your room five times.  And, your ex did _not_ take care of this French press.  Look at all of the residue in here!”

“Fine, it’s not…great,” Betty admitted.  “But I’m just going to have to deal with it.  I can’t exactly uninvited them and Polly would kill me if I wasn’t there.  She’s been talking about this opening for months.  So, we’re going to deal with it.”

“ _We’re_ going to deal with it?”  Jughead asked.  “What do you mean we?” 

“You’re all coming with me?”  Betty returned hesitantly.

“Not happening,” Jughead said immediately.  “I can’t stand arts people.”

Betty shook her head in disbelief.  “Jughead, you _are_ an arts person.”

“No, I am a writer,” Jughead returned.  “Very different.”

“How is it different?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there,” Archie said. 

Reggie looked up from the French press, which he was currently scrubbing with a tooth brush, and asked, “Will there be free food or booze there?”

“Both actually.”

“I’m in.”

Archie turned to the last roommate and said, “Jug-“

“No, it’s fine,” Betty said crisply.  “I don’t need him there.  We’ll leave here at eight, okay?”

“Got it, Captain,” Reggie said, saluting her with the dripping tooth brush.  When she left the room, Archie hit Jughead on the arm.

“What the hell was that for?”  Jughead asked irritably, rubbing his arm.

“You’re supposed to support your friends.”

“I did support her,” Jughead returned with a shrug.  “I told her how to fix it.  Call the guy and say don’t bring the girl you cheated on me with.  Or even better, don’t come at all.  She didn’t take my advice.”

“Jug, need I remind you of a girl named Natalie?”

Jughead groaned.  “Please don’t.”

“She broke up with you on no less than five occasions, but you kept going back.”

“Remember that time you threw a party here just so you could see her?”  Reggie said with a bark of laughter.  “And then she didn’t even show?  Classic Natalie.”

Jughead glared at him and returned in a short voice, “Yeah, Reg.  I remember.”

“This Rob guy is her Natalie.  You of all people should understand how difficult that is to get over.”

“I can’t go tonight, anyway,” Jughead said gruffly.  “I have –“

“Don’t say writing time,” Archie interjected.

“-writing time,” Jughead finished.  “What?  I’m months off my schedule for this novel.  The publisher is going to start sending me hate mail.”

“You seriously aren’t going tonight?”  Archie asked pointedly, his opinion on the matter abundantly clear.

“I’m absolutely not.”

“I promise to pour one out for you,” Reggie said from behind them, rinsing out the French press.  He looked down at his handiwork and breathed out, “Perfect.  Finally.” 

 

* * *

 

 

                 Betty knew that it was irrational for her to spend thirty minutes picking out an outfit for her ex-boyfriend, but apparently, where Rob was concerned there was no rationality, so she gamely tossed out her eighth outfit and dove back into her closet.  There was a knock on her door and she quickly zipped up her dress before walking over to the door and opening it.  Jughead stood on the other side, and slowly took in her outfit before he said, “That’s a nice dress.”

            His gaze travelled back to the pile of clothes on her bed and he added, “Those look pretty nice, too.”

            “I’m an indecisive dresser,” she offered by way of explanation.

            “Is, uh, all of this for him?” he asked.

            “No,” Betty returned immediately, with more force than perhaps was warranted for the question.  “I dress for me, not for a man.  Definitely not for someone who didn’t choose me.  This is definitely not – it’s absolutely not…” Betty trailed off, “…okay, fine, it’s for him.  Look, I know what you’re thinking.  I shouldn’t care about how I look for a guy who cheated on me, but-“

            “I get it,” Jughead interrupted.

            “You do?”

            He nodded.  “Yeah, I get it.”

            “You’re not judging me right now?  Not even a little?”

            “Maybe a little,” Jughead admitted with a slight grin.  “But I judge everyone.  So, I wouldn’t take offense.”

            “Noted,” Betty returned. 

            Jughead went to leave, but then stopped himself and turned back.  “Hey…” she looked up at him with wide green eyes, “…you know you deserve better than him, right?”

            Betty clasped her hand around her wrist nervously and said, “Yeah, most times.”

            “All the time,” Jughead said firmly.  “You deserve better than him all of the time.”

            Betty smiled softly, struck by his uncharacteristic kindness.  “Thanks, Jug.”

            Reggie showed up behind Jughead and clapped a large hand on his shoulder.  “Are you still being lame and not coming?”

            Jughead’s jaw ticked.  “I resent the characterization of that, but yes.”

            Reggie gave Betty a quick one-over and said, “Are you sure you want to wear that?”

            “Okay, and we’re leaving.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “So, I didn’t expect your sister to be so into nude portraits,” Archie said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.  They were surrounded by photographs of nude models, their skin marked with a smattering of letters.

            “Yeah, that’s the theme of the show tonight,” Betty said, pulling off her coat.  “Did I not mention that?”

            “Nope.  You definitely did not.”

            Betty took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.  “Polly asked each of her subjects for one of their deepest fears and then painted it on their body.”

            “So, that’s why it’s called _Skin Deep_ ,” Reggie said, nodding appreciatively.  “That makes so much more sense now.”

            Betty went to respond when a tall blonde descended on her, taking a hold of her arm and pulling her to the side.  

"Polly-"

“So, don’t freak, but Rob is here.”

            “I know.”

            “Oh Betty,” Polly said, pulling her into a tight hug.  “I was hoping I’d tell you before you saw.  How are you?  Are you doing okay?”

            “I’m fine.  He actually asked me about it.  I, uh, was over at our old place to pick up my stuff.  So…it’s fine.”

            Polly considered that for a moment and then asked, “Do you want me to pay off a waiter to spill some champagne on him.  Far away from the artwork, of course.”

            Betty grinned.  “I appreciate the offer.  But, really, I’m-“

            “Fine?”  Polly finished.  “Well, if you say you’re fine then I’ll believe you.  So, who did you come with?  Veronica?”

            “No, I actually came with two of my roommates.  They’re-“ she turned back and spotted Reggie and Archie examining one of the photographs with perhaps too much detail.  “-over there _really_ getting to know that woman’s deepest fear.”

            “I still can’t believe you’re living with all guys,” Polly said.  “Do you like them?”

            “Yeah, I really do.  They’re great.”

            “I’m happy for you, Betts.” Polly’s gaze drifted over her shoulder.  “The owner of the gallery is here.  I’m sorry, Betty, but I have to-“

            “Go,” Betty said, giving her another quick hug.  “This show is genius, by the way. But I’m not surprised.”

            Polly grinned.  “Thanks, Betts.”

            Her sister went off to schmooze and Betty found herself on her own with a glass of champagne and a whole lot of nerves.  They only mounted more when Rob walked over, all awkward charm and sharp jawlines.  She tried to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t be happy to see him – like the fact that he brought someone else – but it didn’t matter when he pulled her into a hug, hand planting on her lower back.

            “It’s good to see you, Betty.”

            “You too,” Betty said, feeling herself flush all the way to her toes.  “So, uh, where’s Tamara?”

            “She couldn’t make it,” he said.  “So, it’s just me.”

            Betty blinked rapidly.  “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

            Rob smirked.  “No you’re not.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “So, I’m digging these mushroom caps,” Reggie said, popping one into his mouth.  “And those mini chicken wontons were bomb.  Why don’t we go to more of these things?”

            “That’s a very good question,”  Archie said.

            Veronica joined them, champagne flute clutched tightly in her grasp, and said, “That little shit.  Who let this happen?”

            “What are you talking about?”  Archie asked.

            “Don’t you know see who Betty’s talking to?”  Veronica asked, pointing not furtively toward Betty with her champagne flute.  The men followed the direction of Veronica’s point and saw Betty speaking with an unassuming male in a button up and ineffectual man bun.  Veronica filled them in with some pertinent details.  “That is Rob.  The literal scum of the earth.  You all should know better than to leave her alone with him!”

            “That’s Rob?”  Reggie gaped.  “He has stupid hair.”

            “She’s doing her laugh,” Veronica said in a low voice, shaking her head.  “She’s doing her flirt laugh.  Someone has to go over there.”

            “I got this,” Reggie said, handing his empty plate to Archie.  Before he left he told Archie, “If you see more of those mushroom caps, you grab me more, okay?”

            With that as his parting line, Archie and Veronica watched Reggie stride over to Betty before sliding his arm around her waist and planting a smacking kiss on her.  When he pulled away Betty looked up at him with a somewhat stricken expression.

            “Huh, well, that’s one way to break that up,” Veronica said.

            “What the hell is happening?”  a new member of their group said in mild outrage.

            Archie looked over at Jughead in surprise.  “What are you doing here?”

            “I finished my chapter.  Why did Reggie just kiss Betty?”

            “Because she’s over there fawning over her cheating ex,” Veronica explained.  “Noble intention, questionable execution.”

Across the room, Betty stood stock still, in shock from Reggie’s unexpected kiss.  She needed a toothbrush.  Or vodka.  Reggie’s arm was thrown lightly over her shoulders, and he held out his free hand and said, “Hey man, I’m Reggie.  Betty’s boyfriend.”

            “It’s nice to meet you,” Rob said.  “I didn’t know you were dating someone, Betts.”

            “It’s new,” Reggie interjected.  “But serious.  We just saw each other and we knew.  Right babe?”

            Betty pinched his side hard and he swallowed a wince.

            “Anyway, we should get going,” Betty said.   “Nice seeing you.”

            Rob nodded, eyes lingering on Reggie.  “Yeah, you too.  Uh, nice meeting you, Reggie.”

            The pair moved back to their group of friends and Betty quickly took Veronica’s champagne flute and drained the contents into her mouth.  Jughead leaned in and said, “If it makes you feel better, this is most women’s reaction to being kissed by Reggie.”

 

* * *

 

            Betty spent the rest of the evening avoiding both Rob and Reggie.  She was almost relieved to be back home at the end of the night, curled up in front of the television with a bowl of popcorn and hot chocolate.  Somewhere in the middle of Season 4 of _Gilmore Girls_ , Jughead joined her on the couch.

            “Don’t hold tonight against Reg.  Poor decision making aside, he was trying to help.”

            “I know,” Betty said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.  “I’m not upset with him.  None of this would have happened if I wasn’t chasing after my ex-boyfriend.  God, how pathetic does all of this make me?”

            Jughead put his feet up on the coffee table.  “It’s not pathetic.  You loved him.  It’s hard to get over something like that.  But you need to.  Holding on to something like this isn’t healthy.  Believe me.”

            Betty looked over at him.  “You have a Rob?”

            “Let’s just say I went through something similar, but I came out on the other side.  You will too.”

            “Was it this hard for you?”  Betty asked.

            “It wasn’t easy,” Jughead admitted.  “But these guys made it easier.  They’re idiots sometimes, but they’re good idiots.”

            Betty laughed.  “That’s a good way to put it.”

            “And I’m here for you, too,” Jughead said.  “For what it’s worth.”

            Betty leaned her head back against the couch and softly said, “Thank you, Jug."

             


	3. Chapter 3

 

            Betty worked on tidying up the living room, picking up the odds and ends that her male roommates seemed biologically incapable of doing themselves.  Apparently putting a dish into the sink was beyond the grasp of three fourths of the loft.  When the living area seemed live-able enough, Betty moved on to the kitchen, tucking cords neatly behind appliances and stowing Reggie’s extensive cooking knife collection into a drawer.  Reggie ambled into the kitchen at the precise moment that Betty was wedging a knife between a hand-held colander and a chicken baster, and said in alarm, “Why are you touching my Gentak Makara?”

            Betty struggled to get the knife into the over-stuffed drawer and Reggie sprung forward, pushing her out of the way as he slowly unearthed the knife from the drawer. 

            “You’re going to scuff the black onyx finish of the handle,” he huffed, picking up the bottom of his shirt and proceeding to buff the knife handle.

            “We can’t have knives laying around like that,” Betty said.  “I told you that my niece is staying with us this afternoon.  I promised Polly that I’d make some attempt to toddler-proof the apartment.”

            “Why don’t you babysit your niece at your sister’s place.  Isn’t that already toddler proof?”

             “They’re doing home renovations right now and all the dust is making Skye’s allergies go nuts.  Polly normally takes her out during the day, but she’s teaching an art class today and Jason’s out of town for work.  So, I’m pretty much her only option.”

            Reggie nodded slowly and then said, “I’m not going to lie, I stopped listening after home renovations.”

            Betty rolled her eyes.  “Just put your knives somewhere that a toddler can’t get to them and chop off a finger, please?”

            “Fine,” Reggie relented. 

            “Why do you even have so many?”

            “What, you expect me to use the same knife to cut a meaty brisket and delicate fennel bulb?”  Reggie returned with a bark of laughter.  “Be serious, Elizabeth.”

             “My apologies.  I didn’t think of the intricacies of kitchen knives,” she said sarcastically.

“No, you did not.”   The sarcasm was either lost on Reggie, or he chose to ignore it. “So, how old is your niece again?”

            “Four,” Betty said, eyeing the knobs of death at the front of the stove, and wondering if it was too much to fasten them in place with tape.  “Well, almost four.  Her birthday’s next week.”

            Archie walked into the kitchen and when he saw Reggie carefully stowing his knife into a drawer went, “Oh good, I was going to say we probably should hide those before your niece gets here.”

            Betty smiled, happy that at least one roommate remembered something that she told them all repeatedly, and said, “Already on it.”

            “So, how long is this kid going to be here?”  Reggie asked.

            “My _niece_ is going to be here until after dinner.  Polly’s dropping her off on her way to the class.  Which actually…” Betty glanced down at her watch, “…should be any minute now.  Come on, finish up packing away your precious paring knives.  I don’t want Polly thinking I live with serial killers.”

            “Oh, like a serial killer would have their weapons on such blatant display,” Reggie threw back. 

            “Knives.  Away.  _Now_.” 

            “I’m going as fast as I can.  It’s a jungle in these cabinets.  We need a better sorting system!”

            There was a knock on the door, and Betty did an exaggerated point toward Reggie and the drawer before going over and opening the door.  Polly looked particularly disheveled on the other side of the door, hair falling out of hastily placed bobby pins and a mysterious stain on the front of her white button-up.  Skye was wrapped around her leg, looking almost like an extension of the limb.  She never quite warmed up to Betty, despite the latter’s attempts, and she currently looked at her warily under those thick lashes that children didn’t know to appreciate. 

            Betty crouched down to Skye’s level and said, “Hi Skye.  Are you excited for our afternoon together?”

            Skye blinked and said, “No.”

            “Skye, that’s not nice,” Polly sighed.  “I’m sorry, Betts.  She’s in a mood today.”

            Betty straightened up and plastered on a smile that she didn’t quite feel.  “It’s fine.  We’re going to have a great time.  Do you want to grab another shirt from my closet?”

            “Do you mind?”  Polly asked, walking in.  “Somehow her full sippy cup of apple juice ended up on me.”

            Polly noticed Reggie and Archie standing over in the kitchen and said, “Nice to see you guys again.”

            Betty was relieved to see Archie, arguably the most socially conscious of the two, step forward and extend a hand.  “Good to see you too, Polly.”

            “Isn’t there another one of you?”  Polly asked, shaking Archie’s hand.

            “Yep, Jughead,” Betty said.  “He’s actually out grabbing some groceries for the loft.”  She looked down at Skye and told her, “There’s some apple sauce coming with your name on it, missy.”

            “I don’t like apple sauce,” Skye said.  “I hate apples.”

            “I thought you loved apples,” Betty said, looking over at Polly who shook her head.

            “Not anymore.  Hence the juice down my shirt,” Polly said with a sardonic grin. 

            “Well, I’m sure there’s something else you’ll like,” Betty said with more chirp than she felt.  Honestly, this entire afternoon was starting to look like a disaster.

“Anyway, it’s nice to see you both again,” Polly said.  “Please excuse all of this.”  She gestured toward her haphazard appearance.  “I’m usually a bit more put together.”

            Skye extricated herself from her mother and walked up to Reggie.  She tipped her head back to look up at him and said, “I want you to play with me.”

            Reggie looked stricken and stammered, “Me?  Uh…Betts…”

            “Just go show her some of those toys I put out in the living room,” Betty said.

            “Which one?”

            “Oh, for the love of…” she turned back to her sister and said, “Just go in my room and take anything you want.”

            “You are a life saver.  Thank you.”

            As Polly made her way back to Betty’s bedroom, the front door opened and Jughead walked in, arms filled with groceries.  Betty quickly pointed at the play tea set on the coffee table and told Reggie, “Congratulations, you’re officially invited to a tea party.”

            “If I’m doing this, so are you, Betty.  You too, Archie.  Get your tea party on, bro.”

            “I’m out,” Archie said.  “I have to get everything set up for the show tomorrow night.”

            “Just set it up and I’ll be right there,” Betty said.  Under her breath she mumbled, “If Her Crabbiness will let me.”

            Betty went over to Jughead in the kitchen to help him unpack.  He glanced over at her and said, “They didn’t have that crazy specific apple sauce that you wanted.  So, I just go plain old Motts.  My apple sauce choice isn’t going to cause some familial rift, is it?”

             Betty watched Skye unearth a tiara from the pile of toys and place it on Reggie’s head.  Skye admired her handiwork, oblivious to the sour look on the newly minted princess’ face, and giggled happily.

            “You don’t have to worry, Skye doesn’t like apple sauce anymore.  Just like she doesn’t like me.  Although, she never really liked me.  I shouldn’t be as offended by this as I am, should I?”

            “How does she not like you?  You’re such a kid person.”

            “I know,” Betty enthused.  “But, whenever I’m around she just looks at me like – how dare you?  It’s awful.”

            Jughead laughed.  “Come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

            “Have you ever been outright rejected by a toddler?  It’s demoralizing.  And I’m her aunt!  Kids are supposed to like their aunts and uncles.  We’re like more fun versions of their parents.”

            Jughead took in Betty’s crisply ironed shirt and ramrod straight back and said, “Is that so?”

            Betty caught his tone and narrowed her eyes.  “Are you insinuating that I’m not fun?”

            “No, I am not,” he assured her.  “But I think you may be trying too hard.  It’s not difficult to make a kid like you.”

            “Not Skye.  She’s immovable.  Like a freaking mountain.”

            “Well, we’re going to move that mountain,” Jughead said.  “Hey Reg, you’ve got two more people for your tea party.”

            Polly rushed out of Betty’s room and stopped short when she saw Reggie with the princess tiara.  She went to say something, but then shook her head and said, “You know what, I’m just going to let that happen.”

            “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure he’s done something in his past to deserve it,” Jughead said.

            Polly flashed him a smile before she told Betty, “If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to call.  Still life portraits can take a pause for the well-being of my child.”

            “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” Betty said, walking her to the door.  “Now, go teach some kids to draw a bowl of fruit!”

            Unable to help herself, Polly said, “You know there’s more to still life than bowls of fruit.  It’s actually a really dynamic –“

            “Polly.”

            “And I’m going,” Polly said, giving Betty’s cheek a quick kiss.  “Skye, sweetheart, I’ll be back after dinner, okay?”

            “Mommy, I can’t talk right now.  I’m at a tea party.”

            Polly smiled tightly in response.  “Alright.  I will see you all later.”

 

* * *

 

           

               “If I had to rank this tea party from one to hype, I’d give it a solid _hype_ ,” Reggie said, clinking his tea mug with Skye’s to exaggerate his point.  “We’re killing this tea party.”

            Betty stood above them, fake pad of paper in hand and said, “That’s probably because you aren’t the wait staff.”

            Approximately ten minutes into their tea party, Skye announced that they needed a waitress to serve them their fake tea, and immediately pointed at Betty.  Not wanting a toddler meltdown, Betty grudgingly agreed and proceeded to pour them all tea and pass out imaginary tea sandwiches and cakes.  Reggie enjoyed this perhaps too much, complaining that his fake scone was underbaked. 

            “Your friendly village waitress needs to go check on the kitchen,” Betty said.  “Carry on.”

            She walked over into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking longingly at the opened bottle of pinot grigio in the refrigerator door.  Jughead spoke behind her, and she jumped.

            “You probably shouldn’t break into the liquor when your niece is here.  Although, frankly, I wouldn’t blame you.  That kid is _brutal_.”

            Betty grabbed a package of string cheese and tore one off for herself.  She handed Jughead one without him asking, and he shrugged before pulling down the plastic covering.

            “She likes Reggie,” Betty said petulantly, leaning back against the counter.  “Look at them.  What’s so great about him?”

            “He’s an overgrown kid,” Jughead said by way of explanation, taking a bite off his string cheese.  Betty watched him chew in mild horror, and murmured, “Did you just _bite_ your string cheese.”

            “Yeah, what?”

            “It’s string cheese.  You’re supposed to pull the cheese off.  Like string.”

            Jughead shrugged.  “Why put all that effort in when you can just bite the thing?”

            “I don’t understand you.  Or Skye.  I’m her aunt.  She should like me.”

            “Kids are weird sometimes,” Jughead said after another bite of string cheese.  “My sister didn’t like me for about the first twelve years of her life.  Then she realized that her big brother had a car that could take her to the mall.  Things went uphill from there.” 

            “I didn’t know you had a sister,”   Betty said.

            “Yeah, Jellybean.  She’s pretty great.”

            “Jughead and Jellybean,” Betty echoed.  “Your parents certainly had a thing for eclectic names.”

            “I’m pretty sure it’s from all the drugs they did in the ‘70s.”

            Betty laughed.  “I’m taking this all too seriously, aren’t I?”

            “A bit,” Jughead admitted.  “But it’s not a bad thing.  You want your niece to like you.  I think that’s pretty reasonable.”

            “I guess.”

            Jughead watched Betty and the clear disappointment on her face.  Suddenly, he had an idea.  He skirted past her to the refrigerator and opened it up, pulling out the small bottle of cherry grenadine and liter of Sprite. 

            “What are you doing?”  Betty asked. 

            “Just trust me,” he said, holding the bottles out to her.  “We’re going to win your niece over.  At least for the next five minutes.”

            “Well, it’s better than nothing.”

            Betty followed Jughead back out to the coffee table and he loudly announced, “Betty and I were visited by a witch in the kitchen!”

            Reggie looked up at him with a smirk and said, “Dude, seriously?”

            “Silence, Princess Reggie,” Jughead deadpanned. 

            “You met a witch?”  Skye asked, green eyes wide.  “Like, with a wand?”

            “We absolutely did,” Jughead said.  “Betty, tell her.”

            Betty had never been the best with imagination, and her brain puttered as Skye looked up at her, waiting for some magnificent story.  She swallowed hard and said, “We did.  We met a magical witch –“

            “Not to be that person,” Reggie interrupted.  “But I’m pretty sure all witches are magical.”

            Betty shot him a look.  “We met a _very_ magical witch named –“ she went with the first pop culture witch that she thought of, “-Samantha.  She wiggles her nose and magic happens.”

            “Like this?”  Skye asked, wiggling her nose.  Betty grinned and tapped the delicate point of Skye’s nose.  “Exactly like that.  And Samantha taught me how to make a drink that makes _all_ your wishes come true.”

            Jughead quickly grabbed the tea pot and put it in front of Betty.  She poured in the Sprite and topped it with a healthy splash of grenadine.  Betty filled their tea cups and said, “The nice witch taught me the magic spell.”

            “What’s the spell?”  Skye asked, her high-pitched voice urgent as her little hand wrapped tightly around the tea cup.  “Aunt Betty, what’s the spell!”

            “Yeah, Aunt Betty, what’s the spell?”  Reggie asked in amusement.

            Betty started out slowly, piecing the spell together as she went, “Okay, so you wiggle your nose and then go… _Abra Kadabra…Bibbity Boppity…Wibbly Wobbly_ …” she looked at Jughead for help, completely out of nonsense words, and he finished with, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

            The group wiggled their noses and repeated the spell before tipping back their tea cups.  Betty’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket.  Polly’s name flashed on the screen.

            “Hey Skye, it’s your mom.”

            Skye’s eyes widened as Betty answered the phone and said, “Hey Polly, what’s up?”

            “Can you believe they cancelled this stupid class without telling me?  I drove all the way out here and sat in an empty room for twenty minutes before someone thought to call me.”

            “Poll, that’s awful, I’m really sorry.  Come here!  We’ll all have lunch together.”

            “That sounds good.  How’s Skye behaving?”

            “She’s good.  We’re having a tea party.”

            “I’m glad.  Okay, I should be there in thirty minutes.  Traffic is awful.”

            “We’ll wait for you.”

            Betty hung up and told Skye, “I have a surprise for you.  Mommy is on her way here to have lunch with us.”

            Skye’s eyes widened even further and she whispered, “My wish came true!”

 

* * *

 

 

            Several hours later, Betty said her goodbyes to Polly and Skye and closed the door behind them.  She turned back to Jughead and said, “So, that afternoon really turned around.  Thank you for that.”

            “I’m happy to help.”

            “On a side note, I’m pretty sure that my niece now thinks that I’m a witch.”

            She turned back toward the living room to clean up and Jughead followed her and returned, “Honestly, that seems like an upgrade.  So, what did you wish for?”

            “Who said I wished for anything?”  Betty said, picking up a stray Barbie and tossing it on the couch.  “What did you wish for?”

            “Nope, I asked you first,” Jughead held.  “Let me guess, world peace?  An end to hunger?  Oh, hold on, for Archie to stop trying out his new songs at five in the morning?”

Betty grinned, gathering up the tea set.  “Maybe I wished for you to properly learn how to eat string cheese.”

            “That would be a waste of a wish.  I know how to eat it the proper way, I just _choose_ not to.”

            “You’re such a rebel,” she teased, reaching for a tea cup.

            “I like to think so.”

            His hand closed on hers around the tea cup and they both froze, Betty suddenly realizing how close they were.  She’d never particularly found Jughead attractive, but in that moment she couldn’t help but notice the strong tendons in his forearm and how he smelled like a mixture of cedar and lemon.  She glanced up at him, eyes roving over his angular features that added up to an unassuming but pleasant face.   She blinked rapidly and then tugged her hand out from under his. 

            “I’ll clean the rest of this up later,” she said.  “Thanks again for earlier.”

            “Yeah, any time.”

            She walked quickly to her room and closed the door, shaking her hand to try to rid it of the feeling of his skin against hers.  She turned toward her empty room and murmured, “What the hell was that?”

           


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone!! I wrote a very similar chapter for one of my Arrow stories. And by similar, I mean I lifted a lot of it. So, if this reads familiar, that's why! Luckily you can plagiarize yourself all day! Hope you enjoy!

            Betty learned many new and arguably unnecessary things living with all male roommates.  Archie introduced her to the world of folk music.  A world which she promptly left.  Jughead introduced her to the incomparable combination of Reese’s Puffs and chocolate milk.  And Reggie introduced her to the Beer Olympics.

            They were all together on a Tuesday night when Reggie got a text.   He swore loudly after he read it and said, “Bridget’s out.”

            Archie looked up from his phone and said, “What do you mean she’s out?”

            “She’s bailing on us.”

            Jughead read the text over Reggie’s shoulder and said, “She’s pregnant.  I’d hardly call that bailing.”

            “You can have a baby anytime.  The Beer Olympics only comes around once a year.”

            Jughead snorted and said, “Yeah.  I’m sure she sees it that way, too.”

            Betty was summarily lost on what was happening, and asked, “Wait, what’s the Beer Olympics?”

            “Every year a group of people from our high school does a Beer Olympics,” Archie explained.  “It’s like the real Olympics, but with drinking games.”

            “Why is that a thing?”

            “Are you kidding me?”  Reggie sputtered.  “The Beer Olympics is the greatest thing ever.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

            “I’m pretty sure that’s Christmas,” Betty said, tilting her head to the side.

            “Don’t try to argue with him on this,” Jughead advised, sitting next to her on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.  “You won’t win.”

            “But it’s pretty much ruined this year because Bridget had to go and procreate.”

            “Why is it ruined?”  Betty asked.

            “Every team needs a girl,” Archie explained. When she gave him a look he said, “Yes, it’s a sexist rule, but one nonetheless.  Bridget was our girl.”

            “You don’t have any other friends who are girls?” 

            The three considered that for a moment and said, “No, not really.  Just Bridget.”

            Betty crossed her arms over her chest and said, “For starters, as a girl who you literally live with, I’m offended.”

            “You’re more than a friend,” Reggie assured her.  “We share a bathroom with you.  That’s blood brother shit.”

            “Why don’t I be your girl?” Betty asked.

            Reggie laughed immediately, while Jughead shook his head and said, “No offense, Betty, but you’re not the Beer Olympics type.  You own too many cardigans.”

            “What does that have to do with anything?” 

            “We need a real competitor,” Reggie said.  “Especially because Cheryl Blossom’s heading up her own team this year.  It’s full of lawyers.  A bunch of alcoholics in training.”

            “Who is Cheryl?”  Betty asked.

            “She’s a girl we know from high school and Reggie unsuccessfully tries to hook up with her every year.”

            “This is my year.  I can feel it.”

            “How hard can it be to play some drinking games?”  Betty pressed.  “Come on, let me help.  Let me pull my roommate-weight.”

            “Despite that solid rhyming, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

            “What if we train her?”  Archie said after a moment.

            “Train her?”  Reggie returned.  “Do you really think that would work?”

            “I’ve seen her miss her own mouth with a tea mug,” Jughead piped in.  “She’s untrainable.”

            “It would take a Herculean effort on our parts,” Reggie said heavily.  “But, I think we can rise to the challenge.”

            “Okay, now I don’t want to do this,” Betty said unhappily.  

            “Your training starts now,” Reggie announced, standing up. “Archie, get the beer. I’ll get the Solo cups.  Jughead.  Ready the kitchen table.”

            The boys jumped up from the couch and began assembling makeshift events for her to run through.  Betty watched in confusion, thinking to herself that they put more effort into this than anything else she’d seen.

            “Alright, we’re going to take you through the basics,” Archie said, gesturing for her to joint them in the kitchen.

            Betty nodded slowly.  “Basics being…”

            “How to play beer pong,” Archie began, listing them off on his fingers.  “How to play flip cup.”

            “How to chug,” Reggie interjected.

            “That’s a definite,” Jughead said, nodding.

            “Okay, first of all, I’ve played beer pong before,” Betty told them.  “And flip cup sounds sort of self-explanatory.”

            “It’s less to teach you and more for us to see how bad you are at them,” Reggie said.  When Betty gave him a look he said, “It’s really for your benefit.  We’ll be able to more effectively pair you against opponents if we know your strengths and weaknesses.” 

            “You all have put way too much thought into this,” Betty said.

            “Alright, lesson one –“ Archie began, walking over with a can of beer.  He popped open the top and handed it to Betty.  “ – how to chug.”

            “Chugging is the most overlooked – and yet most important – skill utilized in the Beer Olympics,” Reggie said.  “One cannot overestimate the power of effective chugging.”

            “Well, I can’t chug,” Betty told them.  “I run out of breath.”

            “That is because you chug incorrectly,” Reggie enthused.  “The key is to not actively swallow.  You let the beer just slide down your throat and you finish quicker.”

            Betty shook her head.  “That makes no sense. How do you not swallow?”

            Reggie grabbed the beer from Betty’s hand and said, “Watch a professional.”

            He downed the can, his throat barely moving.  When he was finished he handed her the can with a triumphant grin.  Archie was already ready with another can for her, and Reggie said, “It’s your turn.”

            She opened the beer and took a deep breath before bringing it to her mouth and tipping her head back.  She thought she was chugging, until Reggie’s voice cut through the room.

            “No, no, you’re doing it all wrong!  You’re _swallowing_.”

            “I’m _drinking_ something, Reggie.  Of course I’m swallowing.”

            “You just need to relax your throat,” Reggie said.

            “How?”

            Reggie paused for a moment and then began with, “I’m sure there have been other times in your life where you had to relax your throat…”

            “Literally the worst example you could have used,” Jughead interjected as Betty’s cheeks flushed.

            “I’ll chug the way I chug, okay?”  Betty said. “Next lesson, please.”

            Betty thought this might not be one of her better ideas after the chugging incident.  She thought it even more when she completely sucked at beer pong.  But she inserted herself into their plans, and she was going to see this through, dammit.  Mercifully, she ended up having a natural knack for flip cup.

            “I can’t believe this,” Reggie said, watching her go down the row of cups, easily flipping each one on its top.  “We found our flip cup ringer. After the other events, no one will see this coming!”

            Archie leaned back against the couch and said in wonder, “We might be able to win this year, after all.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The Beer Olympics traditionally took place on a Saturday at the Blossom house because it had a large backyard and a pool for after the tournament when everyone was drunk and jumping in clad in only boxers, bras and panties seemed like a good idea.  Betty hadn’t cared much about the tournament before she arrived, but surrounded by the other teams, she found herself swept up in the energy.  Sure, she thought the entire thing was nonsensical, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to win.

            Reggie walked over to Betty with a shot in hand and said, “Take this.  Newbies are usually better with a slight buzz.”

            Betty shrugged before taking the shot.  It burned her throat but then she felt warmth bloom in her belly.  She noticed Jughead to the side talking with a diminutive blonde and asked, “Who’s Jughead talking to?”

            “Shit.  That’s Natalie.”

            “Who’s Natalie?”

            “It’s his ex-girlfriend.  He’s never really been over her and she uses it against him.  We should…” he trailed off, his attention caught by a redhead stalking across the lawn.  “Correction, _you_ should go do something.  There is a Blossom I need to attend to.”

            Reggie took off in the direction of who Betty worked out was likely Cheryl Blossom, and she turned back to Jughead.  Natalie was laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his shoulder.  She could read the clear admiration on Jughead’s face as he gazed down at her.  They broke apart when a Polo-clad man emerged from the house with an actual megaphone and boomed, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the sixth annual Riverdale Prep Beer Olympics!”

            “This is incredibly self-important,” Betty murmured.

            “What do you expect from a bunch of former prep school kids?” Archie said.  He spotted Jughead over with Natalie and said, “Hey, Jug, get over here!”

            Jughead reluctantly joined them, and Betty casually asked, “Who was that over with you?” 

            “Just some girl,” he said evasively.

            “Let’s get things rolling with a rundown of our events today,” megaphone guy boomed.  “We’ll be starting out with the classic volume chug.  Then, we’ll move on to beer pong, funnel relay race and Louisville chugger.  We’ll close with flip cup.  Now, teams, head to your picnic tables!”

            They walked over to the picnic table and Betty blanched when she saw the large bucket filled with beer.  She turned to Archie and tentatively asked him, “How much beer is in there?”

            “Six cans.  One for each team member.”

            “Oh.  Right.  Well, this is going to go great.”

            “Ready…set…CHUG!”

            Reggie started off the team.  He gulped with gusto, beer splashing on his shirt and rolling down the sides of his mouth.  Betty didn’t think she’d fare much better, and sure enough, when it was her turn, she absolutely did not.  She tipped the bucket back too far and it went up her nose.  She nearly dropped the bucket as she coughed and sputtered, the guys yelling out (major points were lost for such a snafu) as they caught the bucket.  The guys finished off the rest of the bucket, rightfully not trusting her to dive back in.  They finished second, Reggie bristling at the way the winning Blossom team taunted them.  Cheryl blew Reggie a kiss and tossed her red hair over her shoulder.

            “I’m currently _very_ aroused,” Reggie said.

            “It’s a strategy,” Archie said, clapping his hands loudly in front of Reggie’s face.  “Snap out of it!”

            Reggie blinked rapidly and shook his head. “You’re right.  Focus!  Let’s play some pong!”

            Reggie and Archie took the reins for beer pong, holding up the team as Jughead and Betty cheered them on.  Someone handed them shots, and they took them in their team’s honor, head swimming and bodies loose afterwards.  The world began to have soft edges, and Betty felt like she was on a grass-covered treadmill.  She grabbed onto Jughead’s arm and he looked over at her with a lopsided grin.

            “Hold strong, Betts.  We need you.”

            She liked being needed, and resolutely told him, “I won’t let you down, Jug.  I won’t let _us_ down.”

            Natalie walked over and started talking to Jughead.  Betty didn’t like the way Jughead turned away from her.  How the other woman’s presence suddenly made hers irrelevant.  She went to say something when she heard Reggie yelling.  She looked over and saw him and Archie aggressively hugging, their opponents sloppy and crestfallen.  Betty shot her hands up over her head and hooted and hollered until her throat hurt.  She grabbed Jughead’s arm again and pulled him away from Natalie for the funnel race. 

            Across the backyard, the megaphone guy announced the beginning of the race, and then switched to a whistle to officially kick it off.   Reggie got down on one knee while Archie held a funnel above him and poured beer into the top.  It seemed like a very fun choking hazard.  Reggie drank with aplomb, showcasing his very top-notch-chugging skills.  He finished just behind Cheryl and ran toward Betty, arms flailing wildly in an attempt to go faster.  Betty dropped down into a soft lunge, ready to launch off the ground the minute he tagged her. Just as Reggie neared her, his toe caught on a rock embedded in the ground and he tripped, careening to the ground with a bellowing, “Nooooo!!!”

            Somehow, he managed to tap the edge of her shoe after his belly flop, and she was off, running as fast as she could to her station.  She had to drink an Irish car bomb, which Jughead told her before, “Drink it fast, or it curdles.”

            It turned out that when faced with the possibility of curdled milk, Betty was an effective chugger. She slammed the empty stein back on the table and ran as fast as she could back to her team.  Her sides ached and her vision was blurry, but it was all worth it when she realized that she was the first person back, winning them the event. 

            “Yeah!  That’s what I’m talking about!” Reggie yelled happily.

            Betty sat out Louisville Chugger, taking a seat on the soft grass as she watched team members drink out of the plastic bat, spin around ten times, and then ineffectively attempt to hit the aerial empty beer can.  She lost track of time until Jughead was pulling her up from the ground, and telling her that it was time for flip cup.

“Time to shine, Betts.”

            Flip cup was a disaster.  Any talent that she had while sober was completely eradicated by all the alcohol, but somehow they still came in second.  The teams meandered over to the patio for the awards ceremony.  Megaphone guy took his rightful place in the front of the crowd and drummed up the anticipation as he recapped the events.

            “And now…the winner of the sixth annual Riverdale Prep Beer Olympics is…Team Mantle!”

            And at that moment, as he vomited in a set of bushes, Reggie Mantle won his fifth Beer Olympics.

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty lost track of the number of drinks she had as they celebrated their win.  The world was hazy in a nice way as the party spilled in and out of the Blossom house.  She lost track of her roommates at some point, having conversations and making connections that she wouldn’t remember in the morning.  She stumbled away from someone named Ben or Brad, when she saw Natalie and Jughead.  They were by themselves in a secluded corner, faces close and demeanor intimate.

            “That’s going to blow up spectacularly,” Reggie said, suddenly next to her.

            “What can we do?”

            “Nothing.  When he gets like this, there’s really nothing you can do.”

            Betty’s thoughts drifted to her own Natalie, and how Reggie had careened into their moment.  She’d been mortified by it, but the alcohol made her forget.  Decision made, she handed Reggie her drink and said, “I’m on it, Reg.”

            She strode over and slid her arm around his waist.  He looked down at her in confusion as she said, “There you are, babe.”

            “Um, Betty.  What are you doing?”

            “I was looking everywhere for you,” she said.  She looked over at Natalie and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think we met.  I’m Betty.  Jughead’s girlfriend.”

            “No, she’s not,” Jughead said, extricating himself from Betty’s grasp. 

            “Yes, I am,” Betty repeated. 

“Come on, Betty.  Knock it off.”

She stepped toward him and he moved away quickly, causing her to stumble over her own feet. She knocked into Cheryl Blossom and spilled the two full glasses of beer Cheryl was holding onto her.  Cheryl looked down at her ruined shirt and when her gaze met Betty’s, it was murderous.  Betty hurried off before she could say anything, but it didn’t stop her from hearing Natalie say, “Some people really can’t hold their liquor.”

Betty’s entire body burned with shame and she opened the nearest door and slipped inside.  She’d hoped it would be a bathroom.  Maybe a spare first floor bedroom.  It was a closet.  Too embarrassed to face the party outside, Betty leaned her head against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut.   After a few moments, there was a knock on the door.

“Betty?  Are you in there?”

“No,” she called back.

The door opened and Jughead slipped in, closing the door behind him.  She crossed her arms over her chest and murmured, “I said I wasn’t in here.”

            “Yeah, I heard.”

            “I’m sorry about before,” Betty said.  “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

            “It’s okay. I –“

            “Actually, no,” Betty interrupted. “I’m not sorry.  And I do know what I was thinking.  She’s the worst.  I have no actual proof of that since I only met her a few hours ago, but based on what I’ve heard from Reggie and Archie  - even you – I know that she is the worst.  She is a terrible person who only wants you when it’s convenient.  And you deserve so much better than that, Jug.  You are a great guy.  Do you know how great of a guy you are?  And she…she doesn’t deserve you.  So, I’m sorry but I’m not sorry.  Not even a little.  Except for spilling those beers.  I am a little sorry for that.”

            “Betty-“

            “Oh God, am I going to get kicked out?  My first Beer Olympics and I’m going to get kicked out.”

            “You are not going to get kicked out,” Jughead said. 

            “Cheryl looked pretty mad.  And mad pretty.  I can see what Reggie sees in her.”

            Jughead chuckled.  “You’re really drunk right now, aren’t you?”

            “How are you not?”

            “Years of practice,” he returned easily.  “Come on, let’s get you water.”

            “I can’t go back out there.”

            “Then I will bring water to you. Stay in this closet?” 

            “I’m never leaving this closet,” Betty said, placing a tender hand on the wall.  “This is my new home.”

            “Okay then.”

 

* * *

 

 

             Betty woke up with a blinding headache and a particularly squirrely feel to her mouth. She was in her own bed back at the apartment.  She looked down and saw a trash bin next to her bed, her shoes neatly lined next to it.  On her nightstand was a glass of water and two pills underneath a Post-It note that instructed her:  Take both with water.

            She dutifully took the pills, her stomach churning at the sudden ingestion of liquid.  She vaguely heard the television playing and padded out of her bedroom.  Jughead sat on the couch, casually eating a bag of chips as he watched television.  Jughead sensed her presence and looked back, smiling slightly as he said, “Hey there, you’re alive.”

            “Barely, but yes.  I don’t think me and the Beer Olympics mix.”

            “I think you did okay.”

            Betty sat next to him on the couch.  He offered her a chip and she plucked one out.  She put it in her mouth and tentatively chewed, the sudden burst of saltiness in her mouth unwelcome. 

            “I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier,” Jughead said.  “Like Reggie’s attempt with you, it was horribly executed, but the thought was there.  You were right.  Natalie is not good for me.  She never was.  It’s hard for me to remember that sometimes.”

            “We all just want what’s best for you,” Betty said.  “But, I probably shouldn’t have interjected myself quite so aggressively.  Even if it was a mistake, it was yours to make.”

            “I appreciate that, but I’m glad I didn’t.”

            Betty was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Did I end up in a closet?”

            “Yes, you did.  You called it your home.  We all visited you there, actually.   You gave a remarkably thorough tour for a 3x3 foot space.”

            “Well, at least it sounds like I was a gracious host.”

            Jughead laughed.  “The most gracious.”

            “Well, I should try to sleep more,” Betty said, standing up.  

         "Okay.”

She went to leave, when he said, "You can stay here with me, if you want.  We can put on one of your shows."

" _Gilmore Girls_?"

"Sure.  What season?"

Betty settled next to him again and said, "Um, let's do four."

"Perfect," Jughead said, pulling the show up on Netflix.  "I like the college years best."  When she gave him a look he said, "I have a sister.  Also, you watch this an alarming amount."

"There is no such thing as too much _Gilmore Girls_."

Jughead scrolled through the episodes until Betty stopped him with an excited, "Oh, I love that episode."

"Alright.  Let's do this."

* * *

 

The next morning, Archie and Reggie found them asleep on the couch.  Betty was wrapped in a blanket, leaning against Jughead with her head resting on his shoulder.  She shifted, snuggling closer to Jughead while he unwittingly obliged the further invasion of his space.

Reggie held his hand out to Archie and said, "You owe me twenty dollars."

 

           


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

            Betty sat in the nearly dark room, watching the beer bottle spin with the same hurtling tumultuousness as her own uneasy stomach.  Veronica, the beer-bottle-spinner, sat across from her in the circle of people, the soft candlelight in the room giving her best friend an almost ghoulish appearance.  The bottle stopped on Betty.  Thunder clapped noisily outside the window only to be matched by the relentless rain pelting against the glass.  Veronica’s eye slid toward her and Betty shook her head imperceptibly, hoping to convey to her friend to not do anything stupid.

            “Truth or dare, Betts.”

            She didn’t like the prospect of either, especially with the enterprising look on her best friend’s face.  She knew what the question would be if she chose truth, and she wasn’t ready to face that.  Not yet.  Betty took a deep breath and said, “Dare.”

            Veronica’s eyebrows lifted at the challenge.  “Okay.”  She paused for a moment, and when her lips curved into a smile, Betty immediately regretted her choice.  “I dare you to go spend seven minutes in heaven with your roommate.”

            Archie squirmed next to her and said, “Veronica, I don’t-“

            “Not you, Andrews,” Veronica said levelly.  She pointed one manicured finger toward Jughead.  “You.”

 

_**TWELVE HOURS EARLIER** _

 

            “In the next four to six hours, we’re going to have a major storm front moving into the New York area.  We’re expecting record breaking winds and flash floods.  The worst of the storm should hit early evening and then lessen as the evening goes on.  However, there will be significant flooding.  We recommend staying indoors, New York.”

            “Sandy Sanderson,” Reggie said appreciatively.  “She’s definitely the hottest weather lady.”

            “What about Katie Plimpton?” Archie asked, handing Reggie a beer. 

            “Not even close.  Sandy Sanderson is a master at weather news.  See that ––“ he gestured animatedly toward the screen, where Sandy Sandrson was continuing to go on about the storm – “she charts the course of the storm with her hips!  No better way, man.”

            Archie clinked his beer can with Reggie’s.

            “Don’t argue with a man when he’s right.”

            Betty looked over at them with a frown and said, “Well, that was an unpleasant exchange to overhear.”

            “What’s happening?”  Jughead asked, settling next to her. 

            “The virtues of Sandy Sanderson as a weather-woman.  Apparently she uses her hips effectively in telling the weather.”

            “I’m more of a Tom Brokaw man myself,” Jughead said offhandedly.

            “He gets the job done,” Betty agreed with a hearty nod.  “No frills.  No fuss.”

            “That’s how I like my weather.”

            “Amen!”

            Jughead and Betty were sitting much closer than they had before the Beer Olympics one month prior.  In fact, there were a lot of things that seemed to shift since that seismic and alcohol-laden event.  Jughead got Betty her morning coffee without her asking.  She made sure to buy his favorite type of cereal at the grocery store, even when it wasn’t on sale.   They fell into a heightened sort of domesticity, although neither chose to acknowledge it.  Not when they fell asleep on the couch after a TLC marathon, her feet up on his lap.  Not when they shared smiles at idiotic things Reggie did.  And not in this given moment, Jughead’s leg pressed casually against hers and Betty actively ignoring the way it made her entire body feel warm.

            “You know what we need to do guys?” Reggie said.  “Throw a party fitting of Stormageddon.”

            “That’s not where I thought you were going with that,” Jughead said.

            “If you’re going to be rained in, you might as well do it in style.  We can get people over here before it gets too bad, and throw the most bitching party ever.”

            “How does one define a _bitching_ party?” Jughead asked insincerely while Betty stifled laughter beside him.

            “I’m a little offended that we’ve lived together for four years and you have to even ask that question,” Reggie said.

            “I think a party sounds fun,” Betty said.  “I can print off a quick flyer to slip under people’s doors.”

            “Brilliant,” Reggie said.  “Stormageddon Blowout 2017 is going to be _hype_!”

 

* * *

 

             Veronica showed up at the party a half hour or so after the official start time with a bottle of vodka and Twister.  She handed Betty the box and said, “I still don’t understand why you specifically requested this game.”

            “Reggie is pretty insistent that Twister livens up any party.”

            “I also brought this,” Veronica said, lifting the vodka.  “It’s actually guaranteed to liven the party.”

            Betty took the bottle from her and said, “I’ll add it to the kitchen.  You should bring Reggie the Twister.  He’s been asking about it, and not patiently.”

            Veronica rolled her eyes.  “Yeesh.  He’s a bigger diva than me.  And that’s saying a lot.”

            Betty smirked and turned toward the kitchen.  The apartment was filling up with their neighbors and friends, and Jughead was at the kitchen island, pouring out shots for a group of co-eds. She joined him and said, “I come bearing more libations.”

            Jughead took the bottle from her and read the label, “Chopin vodka.  Let me guess, Veronica’s?”

            “You guessed right.”

            “We’ll save this for mixed drinks.  It feels wrong to pour it out as shots.”

            “Seems fair.  Can I help you here?”

            “Yeah, we’re doing tequila shots.  Can you cut up some limes?”

            “Sure.”

            Betty reached to the side and grabbed a few limes from the bowl.  She put one down on the cutting board, and then quickly realized that she had never cut up a lime before, and didn’t quite know where to begin.  Jughead noticed her careful examination of the lime and said, “Everything okay over there?”

            “Yeah.  Totally.”

            Betty went to slide the knife into the lime’s tough skin, but then hesitated.  Jughead smirked beside her.  “Do you need some help?”

            “No, I just…” she looked up at him and admitted, “I’ve never cut a lime before. And, yes, I realize there’s probably no _wrong_ way to do it –“

            “No, there absolutely is,” Jughead interrupted.  He grabbed the lime and then went in for the knife.  Betty expected him to take it from her, but instead he simply placed his hand around hers.  Her breath hitched and suddenly all she could focus on was the warmth from his hand and how he was now standing closer, close enough that she could smell his soap.

            “You cut it long ways first,” he said, narrating his actions.  “Then you do the same with both halves.  Then, you make wedges from the halves.”

            “That was easy enough,” Betty said in what she hoped was a steady voice.

            Jughead removed his hand from hers and said, “I knew you could handle it.”

            She grabbed another lime, and when her gaze travelled around the room, she found Veronica pointedly staring at her.  Betty swallowed hard and made quick work of the limes before going over to Veronica to diffuse whatever situation was about to be on hand. 

            “V-“

            “What the hell did I just witness?” Veronica asked.

            “Okay, let’s move this conversation to not here,” Betty said, quickly whisking Veronica into her bedroom.  “Before you ask-“

            “How long have you and Jughead been together?”    

            “We’re not,” Betty sputtered.  “We-we’re roommates. That’s it.”

            Veronica rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s bullshit.  I know what I just saw.”

            “Fine, we’re more than roommates,” Betty admitted.  “Maybe. I don’t know.  After the Beer Olympics –“

            “This has been going on since the Beer Olympics?”  Veronica asked heatedly.  “Betty, that’s been almost a month!  How could you keep this from me?  I’m your best friend!”

            “I didn’t keep anything from you,” Betty said.  “There’s nothing to tell.  Honestly.  All we’ve had are…moments.  If you can even call them that.  Nothing has actually happened, and I don’t even know if I want it to.”

            “Okay, well that’s a load of crap,” Veronica said.  “He touched your hand and you looked ready to orgasm.”

            “Veronica!”

            “We should hang out here more often.  I could’ve solved this for you weeks ago!”

            “I don’t need you to solve anything,” Betty said. “And, please, do not do anything tonight.  If something happens, it has to happen on our terms, okay?”

            “If it’s on your terms, it’ll never happen.”

            “V-“

            “Fine, I’ll behave,” she relented.  “But, it’s an unusual night, Betty.  Unusual things may happen.” 

 

* * *

 

            Halfway through the party, the lights went out, and the roommates gathered candles and lit them around the apartment.  Around the same time, Jughead found an admirer, and Betty insisted she was not jealous.  She didn’t care that this girl sidled up to Jughead, hand sliding over his shoulder as she showed him something on his phone.  And she didn’t care that he didn’t push her away.  She didn’t care that he laughed at her jokes and refilled her drinks. 

            “Who’s that bitch?” Veronica asked, suddenly at Betty’s side.

            “Our neighbor, Heather.  She’s nice.”

            “That may be true – unlikely – but, she also looks like she’s about to mount your roommate.”

            “He can do whatever he wants,” Betty said, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably.  “I think him and Heather would be good together.”           

            “Oh my God, don’t make me vomit,” Veronica said after making a charming choking noise.  “You hate her right now.”

            “I do not.”

            Across the room, Reggie called out, “Truth or dare, guys!  Who’s game?”

            “We are!”  Heather said loudly, grabbing Jughead’s arm and tugging him toward Reggie and the circle of people that was forming.  Veronica looked over at Betty and asked, “Still don’t hate her?”

            “Shut up.”

            They joined the group, Veronica maneuvering them so that she wedged herself and Betty between Heather and Jughead.  Heather gave her a look, and Veronica said, “Oh, sorry, I’ll move.”

            She settled on the other side of the threesome – Heather, Betty and Jughead - smiling contently at her handiwork.  Betty looked over at Jughead and asked, “Enjoying the party?”

            “Oh yeah,” he said.  “I’m having a great time.”

            She could tell he was buzzed by the syrupy way he spoke.  She glanced down at his drink, and asked, “What do you have in there?”

            “It’s a Jughead specialty.  Try it.”

            She took the cup from him and took a dainty sip.  She coughed the moment the liquor touched her tongue.  It was an acrid taste somewhere between a wet towel and vomit.

            “What is this?  It’s terrible,” she sputtered, handing Jughead back his drink.

            “It’s Malort,” Heather said, trying not very hard to hide her dislike for the person behind the question.  “Jug’s favorite?”

            “I didn’t know that,” Betty said.

            “Remember last year when we drank almost the whole bottle on New Years Eve?”  Heather asked Jughead, voice warm and lilting.  It never occurred to her that Jughead had a history with Heather, and now Betty felt silly for not thinking of it earlier.

            Betty began to stand and said, “I’ll let you guys sit together.  I didn’t mean to –“

            “Betty, sit down,” Veronica said, hitting Reggie’s arm.  “We’re starting.  Reggie, you go first.”      

            “Alright, let’s get this game started,” Reggie said, reaching forward and spinning the bottle.  It spun recklessly before slowing and pointing toward Archie.  Reggie grinned happily and said, “Truth or dare, dude.”

            “Truth,” Archie said immediately.

            Reggie thought for a moment and then asked, “Who in this circle have you pictured naked?”

            “Seriously, Reg?”

            “Seriously, Arch,” he returned tauntingly.  “Come on.  Who?”

            Archie sighed and said, “Fine.  Veronica.”

            Veronica raised an eyebrow and said, “Don’t look so sheepish, Andrews.  Most people I encounter picture me naked.  If it makes you feel better, I’ve thought of you, too.”  She lowered her voice and added, “In the bath.”

            Reggie laughed loudly.  “That’s what I’m talking about!”

            “My turn now,” Veronica said, leaning forward and taking a hold of the bottle.  She gave it a strong spin with a flick of her wrist. 

Betty watched the beer bottle spin with the same hurtling tumultuousness as her own uneasy stomach.  The bottle slowed, and for a moment she thought she’d luck out and it would stop on Heather.  Instead, it came to a stop directly in front of her.  Thunder clapped noisily outside the window only to be matched by the relentless rain pelting against the glass.  Veronica’s eye slid toward her and Betty shook her head imperceptibly, hoping to convey to her friend to not do anything stupid.

            “Truth or dare, Betts.”

            She didn’t like the prospect of either, especially with the enterprising look on her best friend’s face.  She knew what the question would be if she chose truth, and she wasn’t ready to face that.  Not yet.  Betty took a deep breath and said, “Dare.”

            Veronica’s eyebrows lifted at the challenge.  “Okay.”  She paused for a moment, and when her lips curved into a smile, Betty immediately regretted her choice.  “I dare you to go spend seven minutes in heaven with your roommate.”

            Archie squirmed next to her and said, “Veronica, I don’t-“

            “Not you, Andrews,” Veronica said levelly.  She pointed one manicured finger toward Jughead.  “You.”

            Betty felt a flood of emotions.  Anger at Veronica.  Nerves at facing Jughead alone.  Absolute terror at having to do what seven minutes entailed.

            “Of course, if you send us proof that you kiss, you can leave earlier than seven minutes,” Veronica said, holding up her phone.

            _Of course_ , Betty thought unhappily.  She looked over at Jughead, who only shrugged and stood up, holding out his hand for her to follow.  She swallowed hard and stood, following him over to the front closet.  He let her in first and then closed the door behind him.  The closet wasn’t particularly large, and it seemed even smaller with the two of them in it.  She moved as far away from his as she could, her back hitting the handle of a vacuum cleaner.

            “We don’t have to do this,” he told her immediately.

            “I know.”

            “We can just hang in here for seven minutes.  Locate all the umbrellas we can never find in here when it rains.”

            She appreciated the offer, but she didn’t think she could handle seven minutes in such a close space with him.  Suddenly, she got an idea.

 

* * *

 

            Veronica’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at a picture of Jughead kissing Betty’s cheek.  She shook her head with a small grin and called out, “Nice try, B, but it doesn’t count!  You need a real kiss!”

 

* * *

 

            “I really hoped that would work,” Betty said unhappily.

            “Why don’t we just do it?”  Jughead asked.  “A kiss isn’t a big deal.”

            “I know,” Betty said, suddenly feeling defensive.  “I just…it feels weird.  I mean, we’re roommates.”

            “I know, but do you really want to stay in here for seven minutes?  I can smell Reggie’s boots and it’s not a pleasant smell.”

            “It really isn’t.”

            “So, let’s just do it,” he said.

            “Okay,” she returned, trying to bolster herself up enough to kiss him.  “Let’s do this.  Kiss.  We can totally do this.  Do you have your phone ready?”

            Jughead turned it toward them.  “Ready.”

            “Okay so, count of three?”

            “Sure, count of three,” he said.  “So, one…two…”

            He leaned in, face only a breath away from hers, and she pulled back at the last moment and said, “You can’t make a face like that!”

            “Like what?”

            “Like…like that!”  she said helplessly, gesturing toward his perfectly normal facial expression.  “Like that!”

            “Like my face?  Betty, I can’t really help my face.”

            “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.  “I just – I’ll close my eyes.  That’ll work.  Let’s just get this over.”

            Closing her eyes was even worse than having them open.  At least then, she knew when it was about to happen.  Her nerves completely enveloped her with her eyes closed, nothing but the rustle of coats against his shoulder as he moved forward alerting her that it was about to happen.  She stumbled back messily, the vacuum handle angrily jabbing her in the back.

            “Betty-“

            “I can’t do this,” she said anxiously, too disoriented to watch the words leaving her mouth.  “I can’t do this with you.  Not like this.  I don’t want it to happen like this.”

            “Wait, what?”

            Betty’s eyes widened when she realized what she said.  “I mean…I didn’t mean-“

            “Why did you say you didn’t want it to happen like this?”

            “It’s just a thing I said,” she returned weakly.  “It didn’t mean anything.”

            “It’s a weird thing to say,” he continued.  “Unless, you –“

            “We should just call this,” she interrupted, pushing the door open and striding out of the closet. 

            “I failed my dare.  As punishment, I will exit the game.  If you need me, I will be in my room.  Thank you.”

            Betty grabbed a half bottle of red wine and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and collapsing on her bed.  She uncorked the wine and took a self-medicating-gulp.  There was a knock on the door, and then Veronica came in.  She laid down next to Betty on her bed and asked, “How mad are you at me right now?”

            “I was pretty mad, but then I had the soul-crushing realization that I really, really like my roommate, so that’s sort of taken precedence.”

            “My methods are unconventional, but effective.”

            “And then I inadvertently told him.”

            “No way. How did that go?”

            Betty turned on her side to face Veronica and her friend followed her lead. “I think I left before I could find out?”

            “Oh, Betts.  You need to stay after a declaration like that.  It gives them the chance to say it back.”

            “I don’t think he’s going to say it back.  You saw him with Heather.  He had this terrible drink and she kept going on about how they got drunk on it last New Years.  They have history, V.  How can I compete with that?”

            “I’ve seen you two together, Betty, and he is not impartial.  I think you have a good chance, you just need to take it.”

            “What if he says no?  Or what if he says yes, and then it implodes and completely ruins what we all have here?”

            “Those are valid concerns.  But you’re forgetting something.”

            “What?”

            “The possibility that he says yes, and it’s great and you end up with something _really_ good.”    

            Betty considered that for a moment.  “I guess that is a possibility.”

            “It definitely is,” Veronica enthused.  “So, do you want to go back out there?”

            Betty shook her head.  “I can’t.  I’m too embarrassed.”

            “Okay,” Veronica said slowly.  “So…do you want me to steal some chips and dip to bring in here?”

            Betty smiled softly.  “Yes, please.”

 

* * *

 

            Betty and Veronica finished off the rest of the wine and an entire bag of chips and salsa before they fell asleep, Veronica’s soft snoring both lulling Betty to sleep and waking her up.  She stretched on her side of the bed, her throat feeling dry and sand-papery.  She quietly rose from the bed and padded out to the kitchen to get herself water.  She was surprised to find Jughead at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal.

            “Hi,” she said nervously, stopping at the side of the island.  “How was the rest of the party?”

            “Okay,” he said with a noncommittal shrug.  “Reggie made us all play Twister.”

            “I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.”

            “It probably depends on who you ask.”

            “So, Reggie and then everything else?”

            Jughead smirked. “Yeah, something like that.  How are you?”

            “Good.  I’m, uh, sorry about my freakout in the closet.  I had one too many glasses of wine. You know how it is.”

            “Sure.”

            “Anyway, I just came out here to get some water.”

            She turned away from him and walked to the sink.  Her regular glass was at the side of the sink, and she turned on the facet and filled her glass to the brim.  She drank all of it, her stomach seeming uncertain whether it welcomed or rejected the sudden ingestion.  She put the glass down and turned around, breath catching in her throat when Jughead was in front of her.  She went to ask him what he was doing when he stepped forward and kissed her.  At first, she didn’t respond, her mind in shock at the sudden contact.  Her body knew what was happening, though, a warmth spreading from her belly and going all over.  It only took a few moments for her brain to catch up with her body, and she threaded her fingers in his hair, tugging his mouth closer as she kissed him back. 

Kissing Jughead was better than she could have ever imagined.  He was gentle but firm, pushing her against the kitchen counter as his hands pressed insistently against her waist.  Jughead pulled away after what could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes, Betty was incapable of keeping track of something as pedestrian as time when Jughead Jones’ mouth was against hers.

            “Is that more what you had in mind?” he asked with a soft grin.

            She blinked up at him.  “To be honest, I don’t know what I had in mind.  But this was probably better.”

            “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

            She feathered her fingers against the back of his neck and admitted, “Me too.”

             


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Me too.”

Jughead’s hands slid to her waist, and he seemed to consider something before he dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and said, “We should probably call it a night.”

She understood his hesitation at having too much too quickly, but she wasn’t nearly done with him.  Maybe it was the alcohol, or the recent memory of his mouth against hers, but she leaned in and asked, “Can I come with you?”

His eyes widened slightly, and he returned simply, “Yes.”

She followed him into his room, eyes darting just once to her own closed door. She could just imagine Veronica waking up and putting the pieces together when she didn’t find Betty next to her.  She’d never hear the end of sneaking out to a boy’s bedroom, but at this point she didn’t really care.  She wasn’t ready to not be next to him yet, to not feel his gaze and his palms against her waist.  Apparently, neither was he.  Despite his hesitance, the moment he closed his bedroom door he came up from behind her and snaked his arms around her waist, his mouth finding just the right spot on her neck.  She leaned back into him, all feeling and absolutely no thought as his teeth gently grazed her skin.   

They stumbled blindly toward his bed, but made contact with his desk chair first, causing their tangled bodies to ricochet messily toward his desk instead.  Her body hit the edge of the desk, and she yelped a bit when Jughead took a hold of her bottom and lifted her onto the desk.  She scooted back so that she wouldn’t topple off the desk, hand clumsily knocking into a picture frame as he pressed himself between her legs.  The picture frame fell to the ground with an unpleasant cracking noise.  Even in her fevered state, Betty’s primness reacted poorly to breaking another person’s picture frame, and she ignored his protests as she pushed away from him and down to the ground to pick up the shattered frame. 

“Careful,” he said, crouching down next to her.  As if by magic, conjured up by his cautionary words, Betty sliced her palm open with a jagged piece of glass.  She swore loudly, tears springing to her eyes as blood bubbled to the surface of her palm.

“Maybe it’s not that bad,” she murmured hopefully. 

“It looks pretty bad.”  Jughead took a hold of her arm and stood as he said, “I think we have a first aid kit in the kitchen.”

Betty followed him out into the kitchen, holding her hand high over her chest.  Jughead glanced back at her and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Aren’t you supposed to hold cuts over your heart?”

“I don’t know.  Are you?”  He handed her a napkin to stop the bleeding, and she pressed it tightly against her palm.

She nodded.  “Penny told me that when we were little.  I think it has something to do with blood flow?”  Betty considered this for a moment.  “Or she just liked making me look funny.”  When he looked back at her, she added, “I was a very clumsy kid.  Lots of cuts and bruises.”

Jughead grinned, opening up the cabinet above the sink, and said, “I would have thought you’d be too careful to get too many cuts and bruises.”

“Oh, I was still careful,” Betty told him.  “My clumsiness just won out.”

When she saw that he found the First Aid kit, she joined him at the sink. 

“Has the bleeding stopped?” he asked.

She peaked under the napkin.  “Not yet.”

They waited for a few minutes until the bleeding had almost stopped, and then he turned on the faucet.  She tossed the napkin into the garbage and saw him drying his own hands off with a clean dish towel.   She went to clean the cut when he took a hold of her hand and placed it under the running water.  Her palm stung at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he said, gently moving her hand under the faucet to clean as much of the cut as possible. 

“It’s okay,” she returned softly, watching him methodically work on her hand.  He didn’t talk, attention squarely on the task at hand.  When her cut seemed clean enough, he gently patted it dry with a paper towel, and then applied a thin layer of antiseptic.  He found a large bandage and pressed it against her palm.

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants.  His gaze didn’t stray from her hand as he asked, “Does that bandage feel like it’s working? If not, there’s some gauze in the kit.”

When he looked up, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his mouth.  She pulled away before he could react, and told him, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I’m sorry for breaking your picture.”

He ran a hand through his hair and said, “That was probably for the best.  I think we may have been moving a little fast.”

She nodded.  “Maybe a little.”

“Not that I don’t want to do those things,” he clarified.  “Because, I do.  A lot.”

She thought of him lifting her onto the desk and breathed out, “Me too.  But, I think this way is better.”

“Me too.”

They cleaned up the mess from her cut and then headed toward their respective bedrooms.  She stopped at her door and hesitated for a moment before turning around and going back to his room.  She knocked on the door lightly and he answered, smiling ruefully as he murmured, “Betty.”

“I’m only here to sleep.  Veronica snores.”

“Why do I find that unlikely?”

“I promise that we will only sleep,” she said.

He stepped back to let her by and she walked in, carefully avoiding the mess of broken glass on the floor.  She offered to help him, but he insisted that she keep her distance, so she sat on the edge of his bed, watching him clean up the errant shards of glass.  When the coast was clear, she walked over to his desk and picked up the printed photograph, curious to see what had so effectively ended their moment before.  The picture was of Jughead and a beautiful girl with his same ink black hair.  Her arm was flung haphazardly around his shoulders, head thrown back in laughter.  Beside the girl, Jughead grinned wide. 

Jughead joined Betty at the desk and said, “That’s my sister.  Jellybean.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“She lives in L.A. so I don’t see her much anymore.”

Betty noticed for the first time the collection of photographs scattered over Jughead’s desk.  She had only been in his bedroom few time before, and had never been in the position to actually explore.  Now, though, she leaned forward and took in all of the photographs.  There were some of him, Archie and Reggie.  Some childhood photographs.  Her gaze lingered on one photograph in particular.  It was a group shot, and Jughead and Natalie were in the center, their smiling faces making her stomach churn.  Betty straightened up and said, “Let’s go to bed.”      

She waited for Jughead to take whatever his usual side was and then settled next to him. It occurred to Betty that she hadn’t slept with a man since Rob, and she couldn’t decide if the thought was happy or sad.  She turned toward Jughead, watching him scroll through his phone. 

“Anything good?”

“I got an alert that Reggie tagged me in photos.  Never a good sign.”

She chuckled.  “Let me see.”

None of the photographs were too incriminating and he put his phone back on the nightstand before laying back down and turning on his side to face her.  They were close, although their bodies didn’t touch.  Somehow, it felt more intimate than their time on his desk.  Neither spoke, the realities of their situation plain on their faces.  A bit of his hair curled down toward his eyes, and Betty reached forward and smoothed it away from his face.  He grasped her hand in his own.   

“Is this a terrible idea?” she asked softly.

“Maybe.”

“Will Reggie and Archie care?”

“I don’t really care if they care,” he said simply.  His hand found the curve of her hip under the blanket. 

“I do.”

Jughead was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Do you want to stop?”

Betty considered that.  Did she?  She weighed the pros and cons in her mind, just like she’d done when she was younger and faced with a difficult decision.   Part of her was legitimately worried that them being together would impact the balance of the loft.  Over the months, they all became family to her.  How would this affect that?  And, what if it didn’t work?  She’d not only be sacrificing her closest friends, but also her living space.  The cons weighed heavily on her mind.  But, ultimately, the one pro outweighed everything else.

Him.

She moved toward him and rested her head on his chest.  He lightly said, “I guess that’s a no”, but the rapid pace of his heart beneath her ear told a different story.  His arms held her tightly and she knew then, that even if it didn’t work out, it was worth it. 

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty climbed out of bed before Jughead, anxious to put some coffee into her system.  She opened the door slightly and peaked out to see if anyone was in the common area.  The coast was clear, and she stepped out just as Veronica left her bedroom.  Veronica’s eyes widened and she went to say something when Betty rushed over and put her hand over her mouth.

            “Please don’t say anything,” Betty said quickly.  “Archie and Reggie don’t know yet.  Just...be cool, okay?”

            Veronica’s eyes danced.  “I knew it.”

            “You did not,” Betty said, rolling her eyes.  “It only just happened.”

            “So, did you guys…”

            “No, we only slept.”

            Veronica sighed.  “That’s so lame.”

            “We both decided to take it slow,” Betty said, holding up her hand.  “Because when we weren’t deciding that, this happened.”

            “What the hell happened?”

            “Let’s just say I knocked something off of his desk.”

            Veronica nodded appreciatively and murmured, “Desk sex, huh?  I’m impressed, Elizabeth Cooper.  My little girl is growing up.”

            Betty smirked.  “But, nothing actually happened because then I started bleeding everywhere.”

            “That does typically dampen the mood.”

            “But, anyway, please promise to keep this between us.  I don’t know when we’re planning to tell Archie and Reggie, and I really think it should come from us.”

            “My lips are sealed, B.”

            “Thank you.”

            Veronica braced her hands on her friend’s shoulders and said, “I only have one last question for you.”

            Betty frowned.  “What now?”

            “Are you happy?”

            Betty’s face softened.  “Yeah.  I really am.”

            “Good.  Then I am, too.  And please tell Jughead that if he ever hurts you, I will ensure he never has a working penis again.”

            “You are such a good friend.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy!

Betty sat with Jughead in the kitchen.  She was perched on a chair beside him at the kitchen table, anxiously working at a hangnail on the side of her thumb as he unaffectedly ate a bowl of cereal.  Archie and Reggie were still asleep after the long night.  Veronica, after gleaning every tiny detail about the night before from Betty, returned home, but not before writing Jughead a pointed note outlining what would happen to him if he hurt her friend.

            “This is one of the most horrifying things I’ve read,” Jughead had said after reading it.

            “I’ll make sure to tell her that.  She’ll be thrilled.”

            They had gotten through about five minutes of directionless conversation before she caved and asked, “How do you think we should tell them?”

            “I was thinking with words.  But if you have any other ideas I’m all ears.”

            “Ha ha.  Very funny,” Betty returned drily.  “I’m serious, though.  I think it’s very important to develop a plan for how we’re going to tell them.  The roommate balance is extremely delicate, and I don’t want us to negatively impact it.”

            “How long have you been up and worrying about this?”  Jughead asked knowingly.

            “Since about three a.m.,” Betty returned succinctly.  “So, come on.  Let’s brainstorm.  What are your thoughts?”  Betty waited for a moment, and when she was met with silence she gamely said, “Alright, I’ll start.  I was thinking that we sit them each down separately and tell them.   Reggie can be so sensitive, so I think we should tell him first.”

            Jughead laughed and said, “Reggie is sensitive?  How?”

            “He always cries when we watch _Greys Anatomy_ ,” Betty returned defensively.  “And he gets oddly quiet when any commercial for adopting animals is on the TV.”

            “Okay, fair points,” Jughead relented.  “But you’re really overthinking all of this.  They probably already guessed something was happening, so our telling them will only be confirming something they half-knew.”

            “What do you mean they probably already knew?”

            “It’s not like last night came out of left field,” Jughead returned reasonably, taking a sip of coffee. 

            “But, we couldn’t have been that obvious,” Betty said uncertainly, frowning a bit as her memory un-glossed all the moments that she pointedly ignored before in an act of self-preservation.  “Oh.  Maybe.” 

            “So, I don’t think telling them will be such a big deal.”

            “I still think we should think it through,” Betty said.  “Communication style is incredibly important when delivering potentially devastating news.”

            Jughead covered her hand with his and said, “Hearing you refer to our relationship as devastating news is a real turn on.”

            “Potentially devastating,” Betty corrected.  “And, you know what I mean.”

            Jughead leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.  “I do.  You’re worried about causing problems here.  But, I’m telling you, there will be no problems.”

            Betty took a deep breath and asked, “Can you just humor me and work on a communication strategy?”

            Jughead shook his head with a slight smile and said, “Yeah, fine.  So, separate conversations, right?”

            Betty grinned wide.  “Absolutely right.  Reggie first so that he doesn’t feel left out.”

            “Obviously,” Jughead deadpanned, pouring some more cereal into his bowl.

            “You’re mocking me.”

            “No, not at all,” Jughead returned.  “Reggie first.  Should we put Archie’s to music since he’s a musician?”  Betty gave him a look, and he said, “Come on Betts, I think I’m on to something here.  We write some lyrics together.  What rhymes with ‘potentially devastating news’?”

            “Okay, that’s it.  You’ve lost your coffee privileges,” Betty said, snatching his mug and holding it over her head.  “You don’t get it back until you take this seriously.”

            “You do realize there is more coffee in the machine, right?  Or I can take yours.”

            Betty shook her head and said, “I took the last bit, and my cup has hazelnut creamer, so we both know you’re not going near it.”

            Jughead considered this for a moment before quickly reaching up for the coffee.  She scrambled up from her seat and darted across the kitchen.  He followed, easily catching up to her and sliding a hand around her waist to keep her in place.  She twisted in his grasp, trying to keep the coffee away from him, but failing due to their significant height difference.  He plucked the mug from her hand and took a congratulatory sip.

            “You know, coffee tastes so much better when you work for it.”

            “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

            “Thank you.”

            He took another sip, and Betty succumbed again to the maelstrom of worrisome thoughts in her mind.  After a few moments of silence, he looked down at her and noticed the distant look on her face.  He pulled her closer and murmured, “Betts.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Where’d you go just then?”

            “Nowhere,” she said.  “I’m just – it’s fine.”    

            Jughead put his coffee down on the counter and wrapped his arms around her.  She buried her face in the crook of his neck, the smell of him working some to quell her nerves.

            “I know you’re worried about this,” he murmured.  “But, that’s just part of it.”

            “I thought you were going to say there’s nothing to worry about.”

            “If you’re talking about telling Archie and Reggie, then yeah.  There’s really nothing to worry about.  But, I think you’re talking about more than that.”     

            Betty was too embarrassed to respond.  He probably thought she was crazy for worrying so much.  They hadn’t even been together for twenty-four hours, and she’d already worked out all the potential ways that it could go bad.  What sort of person did that?

            “I’m not usually like this,” she said tentatively.

            “Yeah, you are,” Jughead said, his voice warm.

            She looked up at him and morosely returned, “You’re right.  I am.”

            Jughead laughed at her tone and said, “I’d still choose you.  Excessive worries and all.”

            “Really?”

            “We all have our things.  I mean, look at me.  It’s exhausting being this witty all the time.” Betty laughed, playfully swatting him on the arm.  “Sometimes I say something, and I have to tell myself –  save it for the page, Jughead.”

            “You’re so modest, too.”

            He gave her a soft kiss, and she couldn’t resist winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down for more.  His mouth tasted like coffee and Cheerios, and it was an oddly intoxicating combination.  She could have stayed there forever, but then they were no longer alone.  She pulled away first, happy that Jughead still kept a hold of her waist, because if he didn’t, she was pretty sure she would have run and hid in her bedroom.

            Reggie stood across from them, face transitioning from surprise to elation before he darted over to Archie’s room and said, “Dude, wake up!”

            “See, I told you it wouldn’t be a thing,” Jughead said.

            Archie rushed out of his room, eyes wide, and Betty murmured, “This is almost worse.”

            Archie took in the scene before him and turned to Reggie to take part in what Betty considered an overly enthusiastic high five for the morning hours. 

            “I can’t believe it worked,” Archie said.  “Reg, you’re a genius.”

            “I saw an opportunity and I pounced.”

            “Hold on, what are you talking about?” Jughead asked.

            “We were getting sick of all the unresolved sexual tension between you guys,” Reggie said.  “It was worse than me and Mrs. Callahan in 2F.”

            “Yeah, there was never actual sexual tension between you and Mrs. Callahan,” Jughead said.  “You just constantly offered to help her bring in groceries shirtless.”

            “We couldn’t take it anymore,” Reggie continued, blowing right past Jughead’s interjection.  “So, when Stormageddon came to us, like a hand-wrapped gift from the weather Gods, we knew it was time.”

            “We set up the perfect atmosphere,” Archie said.  “Alcohol.  Candles.  And a little healthy competition in the form of Neighbor Heather.”

            “Once everyone was nice and buzzed, I snuck over to the fuse box and turned off the electricity.”

            “You turned off our own power?”  Jughead asked incredulously.

            “Meanwhile, I filled Heather in on our plan, and she was immediately game,” Archie said.  “We all decided truth or dare would be the perfect game to set things in motion.  Which became even more perfect when Veronica made you guys do seven minutes in heaven.”

            “That was a beautiful and unexpected plot twist,” Reggie said nostalgically. 

            “We thought we had things set up pretty well by the end of the night,” Archie said.  “And it looks like we were right.”

            “So, you guys orchestrated all of last night as a gigantic ruse to get me and Betty together?”  Jughead asked slowly.  

            “You bet we did,” Reggie returned triumphantly, while Archie nodded and simply said, “Yeah.”

            The pair took this in for a moment, and then Betty said, “This is weird.”

            “Extremely weird,” Jughead agreed.  “Let’s finish our coffee in your bedroom.”

            As the pair went off to Betty’s bedroom, Reggie indignantly called out, “You’re welcome!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this! Hope you enjoy!!

Betty had many reasons to dislike her ex-boyfriend, Rob.  He cheated on her with the Whole Foods cheese counter lady, thereby ruining all deli cheeses.  He spoiled the ending of Breaking Bad.  And in several years of dating he never – not even _once_ – went downtown.  There were many reasons for her to dislike Rob, but her new reason really took the cake.

            He hadn’t landed her in jail before.

            “Betty-“

            “Don’t talk,” she said shortly.

            Rob had the willpower to heed her request for a whole thirty seconds before he said, “I now this looks bad right now, but-“

            “ _But_? Are you serious right now? You have a BUT?  I-“

            She was cut off by a tall policewoman who walked into the communal cell and barked,  “Elizabeth Cooper?”     

            Betty stood quickly and said, “That’s me.”

            “You can take your phone call.”

            Betty walked out to the phone, nodding politely toward the police woman as she passed.  The woman looked at her the same way Veronica did that one time that she was drunk and made her stay in the stall while she peed.  Fair enough.  Betty picked up the phone and dialed Veronica’s number.  She prayed that it wouldn’t go to voicemail, and was relieved when she answered.

            “This is Veronica.”

            “V-“ she winced when a particularly rambunctious detainee yelled loudly from the cell – “It’s Betty.”

            “Where the hell are you?”

            “Well…”

**FIVE HOURS EARLIER**

 

            “I am immediately regretting this,” Betty murmured, watching from the living room as Reggie put two large handfuls of kale into the juicer.  “Really.”  She looked over at Archie.  “This was, by far, our worst idea.”

            “It was your idea,” Archie reminded her. 

            “No, my idea was for us to pool our money to get Reggie a birthday gift.  I did not endorse this juicer.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I voted against it.”

            “You guys are going to love this!” Reggie called out over the loud whir of the juicer.  “It’ll bitch-slap your taste buds!”

            Betty turned to Jughead and said, “I don’t want to bitch-slap my taste buds.”

            Jughead slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer as they awaited their juicing fates.

            “My God, he’s putting raw broccoli in it,” Archie said in horror.  “Why in the world would he put in raw broccoli?”

            “Vitamin E, dude!”  Reggie boomed.  “Gotta get some Vitty-E.”

            “You, uh, almost done putting stuff in it?”  Archie asked.

            “Just one more.”  He picked up a knob of ginger.  “A little ginge.”

            “Do you find that offensive?”  Jughead asked Archie, who responded by kicking him in the shin.  The juicer loudly processed the last bit of ginger and then Reggie loudly poured them their juices while also loudly extolling its virtues and how it will have a “bomb-ass-taste”.

            Archie drank it politely, Betty took dainty sips as to avoid getting too much in her mouth, and Jughead took a hearty gulp before telling Reggie, “Dude, this is disgusting.”

            “What?”  Reggie drank it himself and then immediately spit it back into the glass.  “Okay, yeah, that’s disgusting.”

            He quickly whisked the glasses away from his unintended victims and Jughead asked Betty, “What do you have going on the rest of today?”

            “I need to pick up towels at Bed, Bath and Beyond.  Maybe some toothpaste.  I think I saw they have a sale going on.”

            “Exciting afternoon,” he teased.

            “I really live on the edge.”

            “Do you want company?”

            Betty shook her head.  “I know you have a deadline coming up.  I can shop on my own.  Besides, I like to take my time at Bed, Bath & Beyond.  Really feel out my towel options.”

            “Of course you do.”

            Reggie returned with new glasses of juice.  When Betty looked at it with concern he said, “It’s orange juice from a box.”

            She perked up and took the glass from him with a content, “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty loved Bed Bath & Beyond.  She couldn’t think of a better way to spend a weekend, walking slowly through the appliance section as she ran her hand lovingly over an row of blenders.  Her cart was filled with everything except for towels and toothpaste.  She turned the corner to head toward the cleaning product section – her favorite – when she caught sight of a familiar face.

            “Rob,” she murmured unhappily.

            He was standing by the Yankee candles, methodically taking the lids off and smelling each one.  He paused on a particular candle, sniffing twice, before replacing the lid and looking around furtively.  Betty gasped when he slipped it into the pocket of his oversized sweatshirt.  Without thinking, she strode over to him and immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out the candle.

            “Hey, watch the hands!”  he said.

            “Are you kidding me right now?”  Betty hissed.  “You’re shoplifting.  And a candle?  You’re shoplifting a _candle_?”

            “Don’t judge me,” he said in a wounded voice.   “I’ve been having a rough go.”

            “What, your cheese harlot leave you for a cold cuts man?”

            His eyes widened.  “How did you know?”

            “Wait, that actually happened?”

            He took the candle back from her and said, “This candle smells like her.  She was always cooking.  Lasagna.  Parmesan twists.”  His face crumpled up before he said, “Baked brie.”

            “Okay, you need to get a hold of yourself. And this – “ she took the candle from him – _“shoplifting_ , is not the answer.”

            He took the candle back from her forcefully and said, “Yes, it is!”

            “Rob-“

            She saw someone approaching them and in a panic, she grabbed the candle and shoved it in her bag.  Betty realized she had just effectively shoplifted, and thought to herself that this moment couldn’t get any worse until the approaching stranger pulled out a police badge.

            “Ma’am, can you open your bag for me?”

            She reluctantly opened her bag and pulled out the candle as she said, “I wasn’t really going to take this.  It was a joke.  My friend and me.  We’re jokesters.”

            “I saw you put it in your bag.  It didn’t look like a joke.  I also saw your friend put it in his pocket.  Shoplifting isn’t a joke.”

            “I could not agree more, Officer,” Betty said, cheeks staining red.  She looked over at Rob, and noticed a frantic look in his eyes.  She sent back what she hoped was a clear message of don’t-do-anything-stupid, but it clearly did not translate for him, because Rob grabbed the candle from her and shot off toward the exit.

            “Come on!”  she said helplessly, running after him along with the officer.  Unfortunately, as she ran her foot caught on a display for portable popcorn poppers, and she careened toward the ground, inadvertently taking the officer down with her.  Rob, distracted by the commotion, paused long enough to be tackled by a good-hearted bystander.  

            “Don’t move!”  The officer boomed, standing above her.

            Betty swallowed hard and murmured, “I wasn’t planning on it.”

 

* * *

 

            And that was how Betty ended up at the local jail, calling Veronica to post bail so that she could return home before her court appearance for attempted theft and assault of a police officer.  Betty, the same person who never did a rolling stop or abuse the take-a-penny-leave-a-penny now had a rap sheet. 

            “You have your phone call next,” Betty said, settling next to Rob again.

            “I have no one to call.”

            “That’s really not my problem.”

            “I’m sorry,” Rob said.  “For everything.  But, especially this.  Getting you arrested is pretty shitty.”

            “You think?”

            “I told the officer that you weren’t trying to steal the candle,” he offered weakly.  “And that there’s no way you meant to tackle him.  You have no sporting ability!”

            “Look, I really don’t want to hear your voice right now.”

            He was quite for a few seconds before he asked, “Did you call your boyfriend?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “That guy who was all over you at Polly’s art show.  Did you call him?”

            “First of all, who I call is none of your business. And, he’s not my boyfriend.  I called Veronica.”

            “So, you’re single.”

            Betty recognized the tone of his voice and returned incredulously, “Are you hitting on me?”

            “We went through something today, Betts.”  He took a hold of her hand, but she quickly pulled away.  “We went through it together.”

            “No, you pulled me into your crazy, which is pretty much what you did for our entire relationship.  But, not anymore.  There is no we.  I’m seeing someone and he’s not awful like you.  He’s sweet and wonderful and more of a man than you will ever be.”

            “Amen, sister!” a woman said from the back.

            Betty looked over at her and said, “Thank you, Jennifer.  I appreciate that.”

            “You’re really seeing someone?”  he asked.

            Betty exhaled loudly, not particularly wanting to go down this line of questioning, but told him, “Yes, I am.”

            “Does he make you happy?”

            “Well, he doesn’t land me in jail.”

            “Sounds like a snooze to me.”

            Betty shot him a look. “He makes me very happy.  End of inquisition.”

            “Because you deserve that.  Now, do I think anyone can make you as happy as I did?  Well, that’s a rhetorical question.”

            “Is it?”

            “But you deserve it.  You’re a catch, Cooper.  I always thought that.”

            Betty suddenly wished for solitary confinement, and shot back, “Except when you were cheating on me, right?  Or were you also thinking that while you were screwing the cheese lady?”

            “Even then, Betty,” he intoned solemnly.  “Even then.”

            “Oh gross.”

            Betty fielded Rob’s inappropriate questions for the next hour, simultaneously wondering what was taking Veronica so long and feeling bad for judging her friend for not bailing her out of jail faster.  Finally, she heard Veronica’s voice and stood expectantly, ready to be sprung from the big house and leave Rob decidedly in her past.  She blanched when all three of her roommates followed Veronica.  Reggie held up his phone and said, “Cheese.”

            “Were they really necessary?”  Betty asked.

            “Someone had to be here to make sure I don’t cause that jackass bodily harm.” 

            “All of the armed officers weren’t enough?”

It apparently was not, as Veronica stepped directly to the bars and said, “Hey asshat, what the _fuck_?”

            “Okay, I think that’s enough,” Archie said, taking a hold of her arm and pulling her back.  The officer opened the cell and said, “Betty Cooper, your bail was posted.”

            Betty stepped out, but not before Rob asked, “What about me?”

            Betty looked back at him and said, “For once, I really don’t care.  Have a nice life, Rob.”

            She turned back to find Jughead in front of her, hand stretched out toward her.  She took it without hesitance, thinking that the day hadn’t ended that poorly given that she landed in jail.

            “So, was the candle worth it?”  Jughead asked her.

            “It actually smelled really good.  Not shoplifting good, but close.”

            “I still can’t get over that you tripped and tackled a police officer,” Reggie said. “You may be more athletic than I thought.”

            “She’s not joining your intramural basketball team,” Jughead returned knowingly.

            “We need one more player before the playoffs!”  He turned his attention to Betty and said in a softer voice, “We _need_ you, Betty.”

            “Yeah, sorry Reg, but I’m not playing basketball.”

            Reggie shook his head and said, “Prison has really changed you.”

            “So, did they say anything about when I have to go to Court?”   Betty asked nervously.

            “You don’t.  We handled it,” Veronica said.

            “What do you mean you handled it?”  Betty asked warily.

            “My mom’s a lawyer,” Archie said.  “She talked with the officer and worked it out.  So, you’re good”

            “I’m good,” Betty repeated in surprise.  She looked up at Jughead and said, “Did you hear that?   I’m good.”

            He dropped a quick kiss to her mouth. “So, ready to go home?”

            Betty squeezed his hand.  “Yeah.  Let’s go home.”

           


	9. Chapter 9

The game was nowhere close, the St. Rita Ravens a good six points behind the Woodbury Wolverines.  Betty never really understood the allure of team sports, particularly when the teams were comprised of twelve year olds, but she enjoyed supporting her friends, and since Reggie was the head coach of the Riverdale Ravens, she happily headed to the Saturday morning game.  As the game progressed, she found herself increasingly invested in their downward trajectory. 

            “Why do I care so much about an arbitrary game involving twelve year olds throwing balls?”  Betty asked Jughead, tearing off a piece of her pretzel and tossing it in her mouth.  She watched a Wolverine steal the ball from a particularly mousy Raven, and cried out through a full mouth, “Hey!  That’s not fair!”

            “It actually is fair.  It’s called intercepting the ball.  They’re allowed to do that.  Encouraged, even.”

            “But, he’s so tiny.  Can’t they just let him get the ball once or twice?”

            Jughead took a sip from her soda.  “Nope.”

            The tiny Raven made another play for the ball, but was knocked down by the intercepting Wolverine.  Betty scoffed unhappily and Reggie shared her disgruntlement, but channeled it in a less controlled manner.  He yelled loudly at the intercepting kid, getting so worked up that the referee had to pull him off the court.  Behind him, the kid tauntingly yelled, “Get laid, man!”

            “Already did.  Thank your Mom for me, yeah?”

            “Is Reggie always like this?”  Betty asked, rubbing her neck uncomfortably as Reggie continued to argue with the referee. “Because, if he is, he may want to rethink being near children.”

            “He’s always passionate,” Archie said slowly.  “But, I think there’s more going on than that today.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Cheryl Blossom.”

            A few weeks back Cheryl Blossom and Reggie crossed paths at the local juice bar and, per Reggie’s nauseating recount, shared an afternoon of ecstasy and exploration.   That afternoon turned into several weeks.  Betty rarely saw Cheryl during this interlude, but she did, on occasion, _hear_ her, much to Betty’s chagrin.

            “What happened? I thought they were still doing, well, whatever it was they were doing.”

            “She put a stop to it all,” Archie said. “Apparently she started dating some guy from Woodbury.”

            The Wolverine made a rude gesture toward Reggie who returned it with something decidedly uncouth for a group of twelve year olds.  Betty gasped and Jughead said, “Yeah, parents are definitely going to write the league about that.”

            “Can we stop him?”

            A flash of red hair caught Jughead’s attention across the court and he said, “I don’t think we need to.”

            Cheryl Blossom settled on the Wolverine side of the court, sliding her hand along the bicep of her new Woodbury beau.  She looked pointedly at Reggie, who visibly deflated. 

            Betty looked between them, her heart breaking for her roommate, and said, “This is awful.  _She_ is awful.  We have to do something.”

            “Reg knew what he was getting into with her,” Jughead said off-handedly.  He looked over at Betty’s half-eaten pretzel.  “Are you going to finish that?”

            “Yes,” Betty said, snatching the pretzel away from him. “And how can you be so callous toward one of your best friends?”

            “We all warned him about Cheryl and he didn’t listen.   At this point, it’s on him.”

            “You are unbelievable,” Betty said.  She looked over at Archie and asked, “What about you?”

            Archie put his hands up and said, “Hey, I’m here for him but Jughead is right.  We did our part.”

            Betty shook her head.  “You guys are unbelievable. When one of my friends is hurt, I stand up and do something about it.  So, that’s what I’m going to do.  That’s what we’re _all_ going to do.”

 

_THREE DAYS LATER_

 

            The roommates hid in the kitchen, watching Reggie sit dangerously close to the television while he sang along morosely with Idina Menzel. 

            “Okay, I definitely did not see it coming that Reggie’s breakup movie would be _Frozen_ ,” Betty said slowly.  “Did either of you see this coming?”

            “I had a feeling,” Archie returned, while Jughead reasonably said, “He shares Anna’s optimism.”

            “This is the fifth time he’s watched it.”  The chorus of _Let It Go_ started up again and Betty grasped Jughead’s arm tightly. “I cannot hear this song again, Jug.  I can’t.”

            “You said that we should let him be,” Jughead reminded her.  “Really let him feel the loss, remember?”

            “I didn’t know him feeling the loss would be watching _Frozen_ eight thousand times.  I’ve started dreaming about building snowmen.  And you know they terrify me!”

            Jughead patted her shoulder and said, “Yes, I do know about that odd and, frankly, delightful, fear of yours.”

            “It’s not odd or delightful.  You have a snowman fall on you when you’re a child and then we’ll talk.”

            Jughead shrugged and said, “I think I’d still recognize that it’s only frozen water.”  Betty shot him a look and he slid his arm around her shoulder as he said, “But, you’re right, given that traumatizing experience, it is a very real, and not at all irrational, fear.”

            “I know you’re still mocking me, but thank you.”

            “The only way for him to get over Cheryl is to go through it, right?”  Archie said.

            Betty considered this and then said, “Not necessarily.  Remember when I first moved here and was aggressively cleaning?”

            “Yes,” Archie said.  “That was very sad.  But, also, our apartment was never cleaner.”

            “I did all of that to distract myself.  It worked like a charm.”

            “Did it?”  Archie asked.

            “Yes.  Well, sort of.  It put me in the right direction.  That’s what Reggie needs.  A distraction.”

            “What type of distraction?”

            Betty considered it and said, “I cleaned because Rob’s cheating left me feeling messy and unsorted.  He took away the tidy relationship that I thought I was in, so I found comfort in creating order.  So, what has Cheryl taken from Reggie?”

            The three looked over at Reggie. 

            “I think we’re going to need a bigger fix than cleaning,” Jughead said.  

            Betty took in the candy wrappers strewn around her roommate who previously wouldn’t even dream of touching something so devoid of nutritional value.  It was like he didn’t care anymore.  Like he didn’t have any –

            “Self-worth,” Betty said.  “She took his confidence.  The very essence of Reginald Mantle. How do we get his confidence back?”

           

* * *

 

 

            A double date with Reggie and Veronica may not have been one of Betty’s better ideas, but it was hers, nonetheless, and she was determined to see it through.  He needed attention – Betty didn’t know how they didn’t recognize this sooner- and she was determined to find him some.  Betty didn’t know anyone better at distracting men than Veronica Lodge, and when Veronica heard what happened, she was more than happy to help. Cheryl stomped all over him but now they would bring him back. 

            Jughead had little to no confidence in this plan, and he gave Betty a pointed look as Reggie went on and on about Cheryl at dinner, prompted only by Veronica attempting to tell the table about her recent Thailand trip.  Veronica had the good graces to pretend to be interested, but even her poker face was slipping.

            “I just don’t know where it went wrong,” Reggie said. “We had such a connection.  When we were together –“  he trailed off, nodding appreciatively, “ -  it was like fireworks.  Her body and mine, making the most explosive magic.  Like – _POW, POW, POW_. You know what I mean?”

            Veronica nodded uncomfortably and said, “Thank you for that unwanted imagery.  And, I’m sorry, what does this have to do with my Thailand trip?”

            “Thai chiles are a powerful aphrodisiac”

            “Oh, of course.”

            “But, I guess I have to let it go.  Like my girl, Elsa, said.  It’s time for me to be free.”

            Betty noticed a particular nerve jump on Veronica’s temple, and before she could stop the impending explosion, Veronica said, “Okay, I can’t do this.”

            “V-“

            “No, Betty, this is ridiculous.  It’s time for him to hear it straight.”

            Reggie looked at Veronica strangely and said, “What do you mean it’s time for me to hear it straight?”

            “Your perfect little princess, Cheryl Blossom, is the Queen Bitch of Brooklyn.”

            “You don’t know her like I do.”

            “No, I know her better because I’m not under the spell of her magical vagina,” Veronica quipped.

            “This is amazing,” Jughead breathed out.

            Betty knocked her knee against his under the table and said, “V, why don’t we go to the bathroom?”

              “No, we’re not going to the _bathroom_.”  She turned her attention back to Reggie.  “By the way, go to the bathroom is code for talk about people at the table.  If two women ever suddenly go the bathroom during a meal, they’re definitely talking about you.”

            “That actually explains a lot,” Jughead said slowly.

            “Cheryl and I had something real.”

            “No, you had something that felt real.  Like her four thousand dollar boobs.  She’s conniving, back-stabbing and has blown half of Manhattan.  You’re an idiot for developing feelings and an even bigger idiot for thinking that she would ever develop them for you.  Feelings require a heart.  That She-Devil obviously doesn’t have one.  So, get the hell over it.”

            Reggie blinked rapidly and said, “That was harsh.”

            Veronica plucked a bread stick from the basket and said, “Well, I don’t dick around.  When I have something to say, I say it straight.”

            Reggie looked over at Jughead and Betty and asked, “Do you guys agree with her?”

            “I don’t know her well,” Betty said carefully.  “But I think you deserve someone who appreciates how wonderful you are.  It doesn’t really seem like she did.”

            “Huh.” There was a beat of silence and then he turned his attention back to Veronica. “So, that Thailand trip. Tell me more about the weird sex clubs.”

            Veronica grinned.  “Well, now this is a topic I actually want to talk about.”

            Jughead watched the pair talk animatedly and murmured to Betty, “I think we may have just created another problem.”

            Betty nodded slowly and said, “Yeah, we’ll deal with that later.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short but important one! Hope you enjoy!!

             Betty knocked on Veronica’s door anxiously, her teeth working her bottom lip as she waited for her friend to open the door.  It took a few seconds, but she never felt such relief as when Veronica appeared in the doorway, Veronica’s confused look turning into worry as she took in her friend’s drawn expression.

            “Okay, we’re clearly going to need some wine here.  Red or white.”

            “Red, please,” Betty said, following Veronica into the apartment.  She settled on the couch.  Veronica joined her in a few minutes with their wine, and hesitantly noted, “So, you agreed to wine before noon which is very unlike you.  What’s going on?”

            “It’s me and Jughead.”

 **TWELVE HOURS EARLIER**  

_The bed was creaking.  Loudly.   In any other moment Betty would worry about their roommates hearing them, but in this moment, with his mouth on her neck and other parts of him hitting just the right spot, Betty didn’t care.  She arched her back, taking him deeper as he kept the unrelenting pace.  They had done this dozens of time before, but tonight felt different.  He reached a hand down between them and she squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming out in short spurts as his coarse thumb pressed against her.  Then tension inside her built until it released in a spectacular series of waves that coursed throughout her entire body.  She felt him finish a moment later, his mouth hot against the side of her face._

_“Fuck, I love you.”_

_Betty froze, a different sort of energy coursing through her._

* * *

 

“Okay, this isn’t so bad.  I can’t even tell you the number of guys who have told me that during sex,” Veroncia said.  “Their brains get all muddled.”

            Betty took a large gulp of wine and said, “No.  It was clarified.”

* * *

 

_Betty rested her face on his chest, hoping that he couldn’t see her face and the absolute look of terror that was probably on it.  He said he loved her. He loved her.   Which, for all intents and purposes should have her happy, but instead she was gripped by a panic that currently held her chest like a vise.  Maybe it was a mistake.  An outward verbal slip while he was inside her.  As if hearing her internal dialogue, Jughead pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said, “Hey, what I said earlier?  I meant it.   I love you, Betty.”_

_He said it casually, like his love was such a given that the vocalization itself was just a formality.  She didn’t know what to say.  She hadn’t really thought about it before, and now when faced with his certainty all she felt was uncertain.  But, she had to say something, so she murmured a soft, “Thank you.”_

_“Oh, um, you’re welcome.”_

_Betty pulled away from him and said, “I better get back to my room. You know I can’t really sleep without my humidifier.  And you have an early morning tomorrow.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.  He looked uncomfortable, and she couldn’t really blame him. He said he loved her and she was running back to her room with the excuse that she needed her humidifier.  But, she couldn’t think of anything more clever.  The panic and mounting guilt made suboptimal bedfellows, and her head began to pound from the mixture of emotions._

_She quickly pulled on her pajamas and said, “Wake me before you leave?”_

_“Yeah, sure.”_

* * *

 

            “He’s headed off to a book conference for the weekend and he didn’t wake me up before he left.  And he hasn’t been answering any of my text messages.”

            “Maybe he’s still on the plane?  There could have been a delay.”

            “There isn’t,” Betty said. “I have his flight information and they landed an hour ago.”

            “Maybe he’s distracted by the conference?”

            “Or he’s upset because he said I love you and I basically ran like a deer in headlights.”

            “I’m sure he’s not upset with you.  I mean, he might be embarrassed. It takes a lot of courage to tell someone how you feel, and if it doesn’t go the way you hoped...”

            Betty shook her head, thinking back to the moment in his bed.  “I don’t think it was a big thing for him to tell me.  He didn’t seem nervous.  It was almost like…he was so certain about it that it was just stating a fact.”

            “Did you feel anything other than nerves when he told you?”

            Betty shook her head.  “No.  Unless you count panic.  I just didn’t see it coming and then it happened and I didn’t really know how to respond or what to say.   And now he’s gone and everything feels different.  A bad different.”

            “Okay, first of all, he’s not gone forever.  It’s literally two days.  And, you have nothing to panic about, B.  He might be a little disappointed right now since you didn’t say it back, but you guys are going to be fine.”

            “Are we?  Because I don’t know…” she trailed off, fighting back tears as she took another sip of wine.

            “You don’t know what?”

            “I don’t know if I can say it back.”

            “You don’t know if you love him?” She sensed Betty’s hesitance and asked, “Or you don’t know if you can tell him?”

            Betty picked at hangnail on the side of her thumb and murmured, “Things tend to not work out well with men that I love.  I told my high school boyfriend that I loved him and a week later he left me for the head cheerleader, Rebecca Bloom.   I told Rob that I love him and three months later he left me for a woman who literally cuts cheese for a living.  Even my own dad couldn’t bother to stay.  I don’t want Jughead to become just another one on that list.”

            “Jughead is not Rob and he’s not your stupid high school boyfriend.”

            “I know that.”

            Veronica hesitated before adding, “And he’s not your dad.”

            Betty took a moment before murmuring, “I know.”

            “You need to get yourself out of this mindset that the people you let in leave you, because that’s not true.  I’m still here, aren’t I?”

            “A statistical anomaly?”  Betty offered weakly.

            “Okay, I take offense to that, thank you.”

            “V-“

            “You can’t hide from your life because you’re afraid of things that happened in the past.  If you don’t love Jughead, then that’s fine.  You’re allowed to feel however you feel.  But, if you love him, you should tell him.”

            “What if I don’t know if I love him?”

            Veronica took her hand and said, “But, I think you do, B.”

            Betty let out a shaky breath.  “Yeah, I do know.”

            “Either way, Betty, you need to talk with him.  When is he back?”

            “Tomorrow night,” Betty said.

            “Well, until then, we have this bottle of wine to finish,” Veronica said.  “And an entire season of Outlander.  Girl’s weekend to keep your mind off things?”

            Betty smiled.  “That sounds perfect.”

* * *

             Several bottles of wine, and countless seasons of primetime television later, Betty sat in her car in the airport parking lot, deciding whether she should go inside or drive home.  Jughead only sent her a few monosyllable text messages over his trip, including one that she was pretty sure was meant for Archie or Reggie.  She tried not to read into it, and then proceeded to read into it and subsequently worry.  It seemed to be her default emotion the past few days.  Over-read situation and worry.  Over-read situation again and worry _again_.

            A car horn blared behind her, and the driver called out from his open window, “Are you staying or going?”

            That was a good question, Betty thought.  She killed the engine and grabbed her purse before getting out of her car.  She waved at the waiting car and said, “Sorry, I’m staying.”

            She headed into the airport and waited at the base of the escalator that let passengers into the main gallery.  She watched several waves of people pass, looking for Jughead amongst them and coming up with nothing.  Finally, she saw him coming down the escalator in his familiar black pea coat and ratty suitcase.  He looked surprised when he saw her and he walked over and asked, “What are you doing here?”

            “I thought you might need a ride back to the loft.”

            “You know, they have these things called cabs.  I hear they are remarkably good at getting you places.”

            Betty nodded, feeling her cheeks flush.  “I wanted to see you.  And talk with you.”

            Jughead took a deep breath.  “Okay.”

            Betty suddenly realized that doing this in the middle of a crowded airport may not have been her best idea.  She looked around and spotted a deserted corner a few feet away. 

“Let’s just…” she took a hold of his arm and pulled them to the corner, “…okay, good.  So, I wanted to talk to you about Friday night.  What you said.  I was thinking about it a lot and-”

 “Yeah, about that…“

Betty blanched at his tone and asked suddenly, “Are you taking it back?”

“What?  No!  I’m not taking it back.  I just didn’t mean to spring it on you like that.  And, you don’t have to say it back.  You can take time.  Or not take time.  I just – it’s okay either way.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Okay,” she said.  “Thank you for that.  But, what I wanted to say was…if you want to say it again, I might –“ she stopped herself, taking a deep breath, “ – if you say the words, I will say the words. To you.  So, there’s that.  Did any of that make sense?”

She winced and looked up at him expectantly.  The look on his face made her stomach flip and he said, “Yeah, I think I followed.  But, just to be clear, why don’t we try something?”

“Okay,” she said softly.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist.  “I love you, Elizabeth Cooper.”

Betty felt the same fear flood her veins, but this time she found strength in the certainty reflected in his gaze.  She took a deep breath and said, “I love you, too.”


	11. Chapter 11

 

            Jughead stood in quiet concern, watching his girlfriend rush around the apartment and inspect each surface with pointed scrutiny.  The kitchen fared relatively well – likely because the two most anal retentive roommates, Betty and Reggie, used it the most – but the living room lacked such ease, meeting a reproving shake of Betty’s head as she found something to dislike about the state of the coffee table.  Jughead did not know quite what upset his girlfriend, but knew that it would only be a matter of time before she told him.

            “Why do we have all these magazines piled under the table?”  Betty huffed, dropping down to her knees and groaning audibly as she pulled the stack of magazines out.  “This shelf on the bottom is for decoration.  These magazines are not decoration.”

            “I happen to like a collection of reading material on a coffee table,” Jughead said casually.

            Betty looked down at the magazine on the top of the stack.  “You really like catching up on the June 2002 issue of _Men’s Health_?”

            “It’s not my first choice,” Jughead returned reasonably, “but it’s better than nothing.”

            “Well, they’re all going,” Betty said.  “My mom hates clutter and the last thing I need to hear is a lecture about how I’m wasting my living space.”

            “Just tell her it’s your roommates who are wasting it, not you.”

            “No, then I just won’t be a good enough influence on you all and I don’t want to hear that lecture, either.  I’d like today to just be nice.  Or nice-adjacent.”

            “You really sound stoked about your mom visiting,” Jughead said drily, walking over and helping Betty out as she attempted to carry the large pile of odds and ends that she unilaterally decided to discard.  After a quick review of the lot, Jughead determined that none of it was his, therefore, he did not care where it ended up.

            “My mom and I have a complicated relationship,” Betty said slowly.  “My dad left when I was really young, so it was just the two of us and that made her really _focus_ all her attention on me. Sometimes that was nice.  Sometimes, not so much.”

            “Well, I’m excited to meet her.”

            They walked out to the trash chute and as Jughead held open the door, Betty said, “You shouldn’t be.  She’s hated every person I’ve dated.”

            “I’m sure she didn’t hate-hate them.”

            “No, she did,” Betty said.  “And openly.  Alice Cooper is not someone who keeps her feelings to herself.”

            “Well, that’s not going to scare me away,” Jughead said, following Betty back into the apartment. He slid his arms around her waist and said, “I’m going to win her over.”

            “No, see, you can’t go into it that way.  Your expectations are too high.  You need to aim low and then be pleasantly surprised with something like mild tolerance.”

            “I aim high, Elizabeth.  It’s just who I am. If I didn’t, I would have never gotten you.” 

            Betty grinned and gave him a quick kiss. “That is very sweet you of you, Jug.  But my mother is not me.”

            “I’d hope not.  That would be a lot to unpack in therapy.”

            “I just don’t want you to be disappointed if she doesn’t like you,” Betty said, playing with the collar on his flannel.  She avoided his gaze, which Jughead knew meant she was nervous.  “It was a problem with Rob and I don’t want it to cause any problems with us.”

            “I’m not Rob,” Jughead told her.

            “I know that,” she said firmly.  “But, things are just going so well with us now and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”

            “Nothing will get in the way of that,” Jughead told her softly, dipping his head down for a quick kiss.  “It’ll take a lot more than your mom to get rid of me.”

            “Yeah?”

            Jughead kissed her again, Betty leaning into him as she enjoyed the familiarity of his mouth.  She pulled away after a moment and said, “Okay, I need to finish cleaning up the living room.  Can you light the candle in the kitchen? I want it to smell nice when she gets here.”

            Jughead went over and lit the _Home Sweet Home_ candle and asked, “Are you at least excited to see your mom?”

            Betty smiled slightly and nodded.  “Yeah, I haven’t seen her in a while.  I think it’s been four or five months?  Oh God, that’s a pretty long time, isn’t it?”

            Jughead shrugged.  “I haven’t seen mine since I graduated high school.”

            Betty was quiet for a moment and then said, “You don’t talk about your parents a lot.”

            “That’s because they aren’t the best people.  My dad was in and out of jail when Jellybean and I were kids.  Last I heard, he was somewhere in Nevada.”

            “And your mom?”

            “I think she was one of those people who had kids and then realized that she didn’t like them.  To be honest, JB and I were pretty happy when we finally turned eighteen and could go off on our own.”

            Betty walked over and slid her hand around his arm.  “I’m sorry, Jug.  I’m going on and on about my mom, and I didn’t realize-“

            “There’s no need to apologize,” he said, taking a hold of her hand and giving it a quick squeeze.  “I came to terms with my parents, or lack thereof, a long time ago.”

            There was a knock on the door and Betty froze.  “She’s here.”  Betty made no move to answer the door, and Jughead said, “Making her wait outside is probably not a good start.”

            “Mention the _New Yorker_.  My mom likes people that are well-read.”

            “Okay.”

            “And compliment her hair.”

            “What?”

            “She takes her hair very seriously.”  Betty took a deep breath.  “Okay, let’s do this.”

            Betty pulled away from him and opened the door.  Alice Cooper stood on the other side and Betty grinned wide until she saw who was standing behind her.  She swallowed hard and said, “Dad.  What are you doing here?”

            “I hope you don’t mind that I brought someone with me,” Alice said with a nervous grin.

            “What is he doing here with you?”  Betty asked Alice.  She watched her parents exchange a look and she stammered, “Are you two together?”

            Hal took a deep breath and said, “Well, your mother and I –“

            “No, I wasn’t talking to you,” Betty said harshly.  “Mom.  Are you two together?”

            “Yes,” Alice said.

            “I can’t believe this.  You remember that he left you, right?”

            “Betty, there are a lot of things that I regret,” Hal began.

            “Hey, Dad, _still_ not talking to you,” Betty said loudly.

            “Okay, why don’t we move this conversation inside,” Jughead said, taking a hold of Betty’s shoulders and gently moving her to the side so that her parents could get inside the apartment.  “Hello to both of you.  I’m Betty’s boyfriend, Jughead.”

               Alice and Hal mumbled half-hearted greetings as they shuffled into the apartment.  Jughead could tell that Betty was nowhere near finished with her grilling of her parents, and didn’t know whether he should try to diffuse that ticking time bomb.  He didn’t have much time to decide before Betty stepped forward and demanded, “How could you bring him here without telling me?”

            “I thought you’d be happy to see him, Betty.  I know he made mistakes, but he’s still your father.”

            Betty laughed sardonically.  “It takes more than birthday cards sent a month late every year to be a father.”

            Hal stepped forward and said, “Betty, I know I haven’t been here for you – or your mother – like I should have been.  I can admit that.”

            “Oh, you can admit that?  How big of you.”

            “But I want to make up for those years.  I’m here to try to do that.”

            “Well, thank you, but I’m not interested,” Betty said.

            “Just come to lunch with us, Betty,” Alice implored. 

            “I’m not hungry anymore,” Betty said.  “And since you both have each other now, you don’t really need me.  If you’ll excuse me, I need to be somewhere that’s not here.  Thanks.”

            Betty walked over to her bedroom and closed the door noisily.  Jughead winced and turned tepidly back toward Betty’s parents.  “Um, can I get you guys something to drink?”

             “Alice, I knew this was a bad idea,” Hal said in a low voice.  “Why don’t I just go.  You deserve a nice visit with your daughter.”

            “No, we’re doing this together,” Alice said firmly. “I’m going to talk to her.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Betty paced in her bedroom, distracting herself from the horror outside her bedroom with the steady rhythm of her feet against the floor.  She heard a knock on the door and ignored it.  Alice walked in anyway, closing the door behind her.

            “Betty-“

            “How can you let him back in your life?  After everything he did to us?”

            “Because I love him.”  Betty sat heavily on the edge of her bed and Alice joined her.  “I have since I was sixteen.  Your father isn’t perfect.  He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s trying to be better, and I believe he can be.  Betty, we both were so young when we had you.  I don’t think either of us really knew how to handle it.  And your father definitely did not handle it correctly, but it’s different now.  He truly wants to be a part of our lives.”

            “He’s only going to hurt you again.”

            “That is one possibility,” Alice agreed.  “Or he couldn’t and we could be a family again.”

            Betty stayed silent.

            “Well, we’re going to eat at the diner across the street,” Alice said, standing. “I know we both would really love it if you joined us.”

            Alice walked out of her room and Betty stayed rooted in her spot on the edge of the bed, conflicted feelings coursing through her as her mother’s words echoed in her head.  She looked up when the door opened and Jughead walked in.  He read the question in her gaze and said, “They left.”

            “Good,” she said after a moment.

            “Are you sure about that?”  he asked, settling next to her.

            “Yep.  Absolutely sure.”

            “Because you’re hiding in your bedroom, which makes me think you’re not that sure.”

            “You don’t know what it was like when he left.  My mom didn’t get out of bed for a week.  She was devastated.”

            “And you?”

            Betty was quiet for a long moment and then said, “I wanted to know why I didn’t have a dad who loved me like everyone else.”

            Jughead slid his arms around her shoulders and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

            “What would you do?” she asked.

            “I can’t make this decision for you, Betts.”

            “I know.  But still, what would you do?  If your dad appeared like this, would you go?”

            Jughead considered it for a moment and then said, “Yeah.  Even after all the shitty things he’s done, he’s still my dad.  That means something to me.  But it might not mean something to you.  Every relationship is different.”

            “I waited for his birthday cards every year,” Betty said softly.  “Even when I was old enough to really hate him.”  Betty wiped her nose with the back of her hand.  “And I saved them.  They’re in a shoebox in my closet.  Over a dozen stupid, non-descript birthday cards.”

            “I think you know what to do.”

            Betty sighed, laying back on the bed.  “Yeah, me too.”

            Jughead squeezed her knee and asked, “Do you want me to come with?”

 

* * *

 

 

            Jughead accompanied Betty to the diner, a solid and steady source of support beside her as the other three fumbled through dinner.  It was not particularly comfortable, but when the check was signed and stilted goodbyes were exchanged, it was evident that some progress was made.  When they left, Betty went to go take a shower and Jughead settled on the couch with a Netflix documentary.  There was a knock on the door and when he answered it, he was surprised to find Alice Cooper.

            “Betty’s in the shower,” he said.  “I can tell her you’re here.”

            “No, that’s not necessary,” she said.  “I actually came here to talk with you.”

            “Oh.  Okay.”

            “I wanted to thank you for earlier.  I know you had something to do with her coming to lunch.”

            “It was Betty’s decision,” Jughead said.  “I was just there for support.”

            “Yes,” Alice said, looking at him appraisingly.  “I’ve heard you’ve been supporting her for quite some time.”

            “I’m her boyfriend, it comes with the job description,” Jughead said, rocking a bit on his heels.

            Alice smirked.  “That’s funny.  I always hoped she ended up with someone funny.  Anyway, I’m glad she has someone like you in her life.  I’m thankful for that.”

            Jughead nodded.

            “Anyway, I should get going.  Hal’s waiting for me downstairs.”

            “It was nice to meet you, Alice.”

            “You too, Jughead.”

            Jughead closed the door and returned to his spot on the couch.  Betty joined him later, tucking her feet under her and leaning against him.  He handed her the remote control and said, “I know you want to change it to some comedy, so go at it.”

            “You know me too well.”

            “So, your mom came back here to talk to me.”

            Betty looked at him in surprise and murmured, “Okay, what did she say?”

            “Long story short, I think I got her stamp of approval.”

            Betty smiled slightly.  “Is that so?”

            “Am I the first boyfriend to have your mother’s approval?”  Betty nodded and he said, “I feel very powerful.”

            “Don’t let all that power go to your head.  There’s still plenty of time for her to change her mind.”

            He chuckled.  “Is that so?”

            “I intend on holding on to you for a very long time.”

            He pressed a kiss to the side of her head.  “Well, I’m up for the challenge.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter but pretty significant chapter. Hope you enjoy!

The roommates shuffled into the room, Jughead taking his beanie off in respect and stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. The room was full, a moderate line leading up to the open casket.  Betty took her place in the line and glanced back to see the boys hanging over by the door. She sighed in frustration and gestured for them to join her.  After a moment, they reluctantly bid her call. 

            “I hate going to wakes,” Archie said, looking visibly uncomfortable as an older woman in a walker slowly made her way past him.  “Reminds me too much of my mortality.”      

            “Does anyone really enjoy going to a wake?” Jughead asked pragmatically.  “I don’t think they’re meant for enjoyment.”

            Betty shook her head.  “I can’t believe she’s gone.  Mrs. Callahan was such a kind soul.”

            “And with really fast internet,” Reggie said sadly.  “Now we need to buy our own.”

            “What are you talking about?”  Betty asked. It dawned on her quickly and she hissed, “Have we been pirating Mrs. Callahan’s internet all this time?”

            “Oh yeah.  Even before your time.”  Archie saw Betty’s stricken face and said, “I’m pretty sure she knew.”

            “So, we’ve essentially been stealing from the person being waked?  This is great.  Nice job, team.”

            “It’s not stealing if no one knows,” Reggie returned reasonably.  “Anyway, do you see that girl up front?  The one in black?”

            “I don’t like where this is going,” Archie murmured.

            “What do you think my chances are with her?”

            “No,” Betty said immediately, shaking her head.  “I am drawing the line.  You are not allowed to hit on Mrs. Callahan’s daughter at her _mother’s_ wake.”

            “Yeah, dude, hasn’t she suffered enough?”  Jughead added.

            “I’m just going to introduce myself,” Reggie said, straightening his tie as they walked forward.  “See what happens.”

            “I know what’s going to happen, and it’s you getting thrown out of a wake,” Betty said.  She looked at Jughead suddenly and asked, “Oh God, will they throw us out, too?”

            “I’m pretty sure we can plead ignorance.”

            They approached the open casket, Betty feeling a wave of emotion wash over her as she looked at her sweet old neighbor one last time.  The moment passed abruptly when she heard Archie unartfully attempting to make wake-appropriate-small-talk with Mrs. Callahan’s daughter.

            “It’s, uh, a beautiful wake,” Archie said, beads of perspiration evident at his temples.  “And your mom, she – ” He gestured awkwardly toward the casket and stumbled over his words as he clumsily said, “The embalming guy did a bang-up job.”

            “Thank you,” the daughter said loudly, interrupting Archie’s rambling who, frankly, looked relieved to be interrupted.  He nodded stiffly and said, “Absolutely.”

            Betty followed Archie, expressing brief condolences to the family, and then went over to sign the guestbook.  Archie asked, “How did I do?”  and Betty told him, “Well, it wasn’t your best moment.”

            After a minute or so, Jughead tapped her shoulder and gestured back toward Reggie, who was deep in conversation with Mrs. Callahan’s daughter.

            “He is so going to get us kicked out,” Betty said in quiet disbelief.  “We should have sent a flower arrangement. You don’t kick people out who sent a flower arrangement.”

            Across the room, Reggie mustered all of his charm as he said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.  Your mother was a class act.  They just don’t make them like her anymore. Unless we’re counting you, of course.”

            The woman blinked rapidly and stammered, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

            “Reginald Mantle,” he returned with his most winning smile.  “I lived on your mother’s floor.”

            The woman’s eyes widened slightly and she asked, “What apartment are you in?”

            “Apartment 2G.”

            To Reggie – and the other roommates’ – surprise, the woman grinned wide and said, “It’s you!”

            It took Reggie a moment to recover, but then he nodded nonchalantly and said, “Yeah.  I figured your Mom talked about me a lot.  We sort of had an unspoken thing.”

            The woman looked over at her siblings and loudly said, “This is the guy who always hitting on Mom!”

            Across the room, Betty burst into laughter, watching the siblings responded in like, Reggie nodding along and smiling as they came over to shake his hand. Reggie seemed oblivious to the fact that he was very much the butt of a family joke, but when Betty asked if they should go over and extricate him, Jughead shook his head and said, “No, let him have this.”

            The group took seats in the back of the room, talking amongst themselves quietly as they waited for Reggie to return from his new celebrity.  An older couple settled in front of them and they didn’t attempt to keep their voices down as they discussed the fate of Mrs. Callahan’s now vacant apartment. 

            “She had that perfect view of Tenth Avenue but never opened her shades,” the woman said.  “I never understood that.  If you have a view you should take advantage of it.  And now no one will.”

            “You don’t think they’ll try to rent it for these last few months?”

            “Who would want to get all settled in and then have to leave?  That makes no sense.”  The woman spoke crisply, her words cutting through the air like a knife.

            “What about subletters?”

            “There’s only two months left, Richard, before that building becomes a glorified parking lot.  What’s the point?”

            Betty froze, her heart beat quickening.

            “I suppose you’re right, Emily.”

            Betty leaned forward and said, “I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but what do you mean about the building becoming a glorified parking lot?”

            “You haven’t heard?  The owner of the building sold it to some commercial conglomerate.  They actually bought up the whole block.  A shopping center is going up across the street and then a parking lot is going where the building is.”

            Betty blinked rapidly, her mind not quite working at the same speed as the woman’s pace of speech.  The woman took her silence as an unspoken end of the conversation and turned back toward her male companion.  Betty looked over at Jughead and murmured, “Did you know about this?”

            “No, I had no idea.  Archie?”

            He looked guilty and murmured, “We did get a letter from management a few weeks ago, and I definitely put it on my desk and forgot to read it.  I’m guessing it covered this.”

            “They can’t just do this to us,” Betty said.  “This is our home.”

            “Yeah, but unfortunately, it’s one with a lease that ends in two months,” Jughead said.

            “How can you be so okay with this?”

            “Probably because he’ll be in DC and not worrying about it,” Archie said off-handedly, craning his neck as he casually added, “Is Reggie still over there? He might actually succeed on this.”

            He didn’t notice how Jughead clammed up at his mentioning DC, or how Betty’s attention suddenly snapped to him.  He looked back over at them and when he took in their expressions sputtered, “What just happened?”

            Betty shook her head and looked over at Jughead.  “What’s in DC?”

            Jughead swallowed hard.  “I got accepted to the MFA program at Georgetown.”

            “I didn’t know you were thinking of applying to grad school.”

            “We talked about it,” Jughead said uncomfortably.

            “I know.  I know we _talked_ about it.” Betty felt as if the bottom had dropped out from under her.  She tried to remain calm, but found it increasingly difficult.  “But, it was just talk.  I didn’t know it was serious.”

            “It wasn’t.  I applied on a whim.  But then…”

            “Excuse me, I need to not be here right now,” Betty said, standing suddenly. “Please don’t follow me.”

            She walked away abruptly, and Archie said, “Shit, I’m really sorry.  I thought you would have told her by now.”

            “It’s not your fault.  I should have.  I’m going to talk to her.”

 

* * *

 

 

            When Betty woke up that morning, she didn’t think she would lose her home and boyfriend all in one exchange.  But, here she was, sitting in the overly decorated foyer of a funeral home and facing the not-too-distant loss of both.  She felt him approach before she actually saw him.  It was a weird sixth sense she’d developed in the last month or so.  It was as if she was missing a part of herself without him, and that empty part of herself lit up whenever he was near.  He sat down next to her and said, “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, Betty.”

            “Why didn’t you?”

            “We’re at a really good place.  We’re happy and I didn’t want to risk that.”

            “So, what, you were just going to go off in the night and hope I didn’t notice?”

            As a paltry attempt at levity, Jughead said, “You are a heavy sleeper.”

            “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

            “I know,” he said heavily.   “Look, I don’t even know if I’m going to go.”

            “Of course you are,” Betty said immediately.

            “It’s not a given, Betty.  What’s even the point, really?  I’m happy here.  I’m getting work.”

            “You have to go,” Betty said, meeting his eyes for the first time.  “You _have_ to, Jug.”

            He gathered her hands in his and held them tightly as he murmured, “What if I don’t want to leave you?”

            “I can’t be the reason you miss this opportunity,” she said.  “Don’t put that on me.  I know you want to do more with your writing.  To take it further, and this is your chance.”

            He shook his head.  “I don’t even know why they want me.  Maybe it’s all a mistake.”

            “It’s not a mistake.  They want you because you are a brilliant mind, Jug.” He didn’t look convinced and she said, “Georgetown is lucky to have you.  And if you’re ever uncertain of that, just ask your equally brilliant girlfriend and she’ll set you straight.”

            Jughead smiled slightly and leaned forward, pulling her against him and burying his nose in her hair as he murmured, “I love you so much, Betty.”

            “I love you, too,” she said, holding him tightly.  “It won’t be that bad.  It’s only two years, right?”

            “Right.”

            “We can do that.”  Betty felt dread at just the thought of him being away for two years, but refused to let it show.  “I’ll visit.”

            “And I’ll come back here, too.  It’s really not that far.”

            “Not at all,” Betty murmured, although both knew that they were lying. Several hours was torture when they previously only had a wall – and sometimes not even that – between them.  But, they wouldn’t worry about that now.  They both would pretend to not be terrified by the prospect of distance, because neither wanted to concern the other.  It was a kind subterfuge. 

            Betty rested her head on his shoulder, wanting to say something but unable to find the words.  She was caught up in thoughts of him in DC, and she wasn’t proud of it, but she couldn’t help but think of all the ways his life could branch away from her.  The opportunities – warm bodied and otherwise – that could break them apart.  He similarly was thinking of DC, and how lonely an existence it would be without her in the next room, in his bed, in his arms.  They were jogged out of their melancholy thoughts by Archie and Reggie, who walked rather quickly out of the room as Reggie said, “It’s time for us to make a hasty exit.”

            “What did he do?”  Betty asked knowingly.

            “It turns out that Mrs. Callahan’s daughter is married to an MMA fighter.”

            Jughead shook his head and said, “You sure know how to pick them, Reggie.”

           

             


	13. Chapter 13

            The summer months passed by quickly, the roommates searching unsuccessfully for a new apartment.  They decided to continue living together, none of them particularly interested in going it alone.  Betty briefly considered moving in with Veronica, but remembered from past experience that they were better friends with some separation.  Each of the roommates had their own quirks when looking at neighborhoods, which necessarily served to be opposing forces.  Betty wanted somewhere with an arts scene. Reggie called it hipster nonsense.  Archie looked for the most economical apartment, which meant a dive with hardly any public transportation access.  Betty was convinced they would never find a new apartment when a letter was slipped under their door, informing all tenants that the development deal fell through and the building would remain residential.  They all were relieved.  Nothing had to change.

            Except it already had.  Betty cast a glance toward Jughead’s empty room.  There were still some remnants of their former roommate. A collection of books he didn’t want to lug to Georgetown.  An old ratty flannel draped over the back of his desk chair.  They discussed subletting the room, but it didn’t go further than a few off-hand comments.  Secretly, Betty was relieved.  It was difficult enough with him being gone.  She didn’t want to see someone replace him.  It had been two months since he left, and Betty thought things were going okay. They talked almost every night on the phone and he sounded happy.  He told her about his classes and all the people he met.  She knew that she should be happy for him – and she was, at least most of the time – but she couldn’t help but think that he was living a separate life without her. 

            She tried to distract herself back home.  She read a collection of self-help books, and with the guiding voice of Sheryl Sandberg, leaned in at work, resulting in more responsibility and a busy inbox.  She also started going out with Veronica more, somewhat reluctantly gaining a group of girlfriends who discussed things like jade vagina eggs and the latest juice cleanses.

            “I read that fruit is out,” one of the friends, Maya, said during a night out. 

            “What do you mean fruit is out?”  Veronica asked.

            “I read about it on some blog.  Apparently, it messes up your metabolism.”  She paused, brow wrinkled, and said, “Or maybe it’s something with blood sugar?  I don’t know. I’m not a scientist.  All I know is, fruit is out.”

The fourth woman in their group, Nicole, looked down at her glass of white wine and asked in mild horror, “Does that mean we can’t have wine?”

“Wine isn’t a fruit, Nicole.”

“I know that.  But it’s made from fruit.”

Maya’s eyes widened slightly and she said, “Oh God, you’re right.”

Betty listened to all of this in complete silence, not trusting herself to not make a smart remark.  Instead, she quietly sipped at her potentially damaging wine, counting down the minutes until she could reasonably make a break for it and go home. She was mid-sip when Veronica asked her about Jughead.

“He’s good,” Betty said simply.

 “Long distance relationships can be really difficult,” Nicole said without any real provocation.  Betty wished that she didn’t have to sit through a dissertation on the struggles of long distance, but knew from experience that it was better to just wait it out and then change the subject.  “Sure, you try to visit enough.  But, you always worry if you’re really keeping that spark alive, right?”

“Totally,” Maya said.  “It’s so difficult.  You just hear these horror stories of amazing couples buckling under the pressure. Like, remember Michael and Hannah?”

“So tragic,” Nicole breathed out.  “They were the perfect couple.  Like, the type that makes you want to vomit, but you also sort of want to be them?  Anyway. He got a job offer out in Chicago and they planned for her to stay here for one year to finish up grad school and then move out to Chicago.  Within that one year, he met and fell in love with a Joffrey Ballet dancer.  They’re married now with the most adorable baby girl.”

“Or Kelly and Ryan?” Maya added.

“Okay, how is any of this helpful?”  Veronica interjected sharply.

“We’re not talking about you and Jughead,” Maya told Betty quickly.  “You guys sound great.  Besides, he’s not that far away.  You visit, right?”

Betty took a deep breath.  “Not that often recently.  Work has gotten really busy for me, and I don’t want to distract him from his coursework.”

“Oh.  But, you guys talk a lot, I’m sure.”

Betty nodded, not relaying the reality that they actually hadn’t spoken much that week.  They’d unfortunately been playing phone tag with a smattering of text messages in between. She hadn’t thought much of it, but from their topic of conversation she began to question whether she should.

“You know, there are ways to keep that spark going even if you’re not seeing him,” Nicole said.  Betty looked at her expectantly, and Nicole said, “Phone sex.”

“Or Facetime, if he’s more of a visual guy.”

Betty’s cheeks flushed.  Sure, she’d known about those options, but they always seemed a little tasteless to her.  They weren’t horny teenagers.

Nicole noted Betty’s reaction and said, “Don’t tell me you guys have never done those.”

“Not really,” Betty said.  “We’re more of a watch a movie together and text couple.”

They had, in fact, done that a few weeks ago.  They texted so much that her phone nearly died.  

Maya gave her an almost pitying look, and said, “Well, I’m sure what you’re doing is working.  But if you want to try something a little more…adventurous…I’m sure he wouldn’t complain.”

            When they left the bar later that evening, Veronica sidled up to Betty and said, “Don’t worry about what they were saying. You and Jughead are fine.”

            Betty nodded, but then asked, “Are we?”

            Veronica looked at her in surprise.  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

            “We haven’t talked a lot this week.  We’ve both been just busy.  And when we do talk…I don’t know…it’s not really like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

            “What does that even mean?”

            “I don’t know,” Betty said, shaking her head. “Maybe we should be more _intimate_.  We don’t really talk about that stuff, and I guess if he’s not getting it here, then –“

            “No,” Veronica said.  “Do not go down that rabbit hole.  Not all men are douchebags who need to get laid every night. Jughead loves you, Betty.”

            “I know that, but what if the spark is going away? What if we just settle into this couple who spends their Saturday nights talking about movies and TV shows, and then he meets someone where there is that spark?” 

            “I think you just need to trust him and your relationship, Betty.  I know I’m not in it, but I think I know you two pretty well, and neither of you wants to mess this up.”

            Betty nodded, but wasn’t convinced.  Their conversation brought up deep seated fears that she always had about the distance between her and Jughead, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were headed towards destruction. Veronica, sensing her concern, linked her arm with Betty’s and asked, “Would a slice of pizza cheer you up?”

            “Yes, please.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The next day, Betty decided that she was going to try it.  She’d start with the phone, because the idea of him _watching_ made every sort of insecurity rear its head.  She texted him during the day that she wanted to talk that night, and kept busy to avoid thinking too much about it and what she was trying to achieve.  Normally the prospect of intimate time with her boyfriend elicited positive emotions, but she felt nothing but dread as their eight o’clock phone call approached. What if she was bad at it?  She was fine doing the acts, but had never attempted describing them.

            She considered putting on lingerie to get herself in the mood, but ultimately opted for comfort with an old t-shirt of hers from college and boy shorts.  It’s not like he would see her, anyway.  She poured herself a glass of wine and took a few sips before tipping the glass back and finishing it in several large mouthfuls.  A slight buzz encroached, and she took a cleansing breath before picking up her phone and dialing Jughead’s number.  He answered after the first ring.

            “Hi Betty.”

            She smiled softy at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.  “Hey Jug, how are you?”

            “I’m good.  Just sitting in my apartment watching _The Office_.”

            “Solid TV choice.  What season?”

            “Season 3.”

            Betty momentarily forgot about her purpose for calling and gushed, “I love that season!”

“I know you do.”  She could hear the smirk in his voice, and could just imagine the look on his face. “You’d always make me choose episodes from it when we watched.”

“Can you really blame me?   I mean, it has all of the best Jim and Pam pining.”

“I still think Season 2 beats it.”

“Season 3 is more balanced in the pining.  Plus, I always found Karen more of an obstacle than Roy.”

“Seriously?  You find Pam’s _engagement_ less of an obstacle than Jim’s, like, three month relationship?”

“It was clear that Roy wasn’t right for Pam!  I mean, he literally forgot her at a baseball stadium on their first date.  If that’s not a clear sign that someone is not your person, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow.  You are extremely harsh, Cooper.  It’s a good thing I didn’t accidentally leave you somewhere on our first date.  We may not have made it.” 

She laughed, a comfortable silence falling between them, and he said, “It’s really nice to hear your voice, Betts.  I missed you.”

“I miss you, too,” she said softly.  “I’m sorry I haven’t visited lately.  I’ve just been so busy at work.”

“I totally get it.  Things have been really busy here, too.  It turns out graduate school is a lot of work.”

She smiled slightly and said, “Who would have figured? They don’t put that in the admissions packet?”

“I must have missed the insert.”  There was a beat of silence and he said, “So, it sounded like you had a reason for setting up this phone call tonight.  Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty said quickly.  “Everything is fine.  I just…” she trailed off, already feeling her nerves return in full force.

“You what?” he asked leadingly

“I thought we could try something,” she said.

“Okay.  Try what?”

Betty tried to think of a normal way to say it.  This was normal, after all, right?  Lots of couples did it, so why shouldn’t they? 

“I want to try phone sex.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and she tentatively asked, “Jughead?”

“Sorry, I’m here,” he said in a strange voice.  “You want to try phone sex?”

“Yeah,” she said with more nonchalance than she felt.  “I just figured since we aren’t able to see each other as much as we want we could, you know, experiment a little.” 

“Okay.  Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.  Don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said quickly.  “I just…this doesn’t really seem like you.”

“This is absolutely like me,” Betty said, somewhat offended.  “I’m sexual.”

“I know that,” Jughead said, even more quickly than the last time.  “Just, forget what I said, I think this is a great idea.  Let’s do it.”

“Really?”  she asked, tugging at the frayed hem of her shirt. 

“Absolutely.  You start.”

She blinked rapidly and stammered, “Why do I have to start?”

“It was your idea,” he returned.

“Well, I’ve never done this before.  I don’t really know how to start it.  You start.”

Jughead laughed and said, “I haven’t exactly done this before, either.”

“What do you mean exactly?”  Betty asked, pulling her knees into her chest.  “What have you done?”

“Do we really need to have this conversation _now?”_

“Why not?  Tell me.”

Jughead sighed and said, “I’ve sexted a bit before.”

“You’ve sexted?”  Betty asked uncomfortably.  They never did anything like that.  The closest they got was him jokingly writing her a thank-you note for sex after she got mad at him for making fun of her for being too polite.  “Why haven’t we sexted?”

“I didn’t think you’d like it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.  Would you?”

Betty thought about it and admitted, “Probably not.”

“Okay good, glad we settled that,” he returned lightly. 

“Yeah, good,” she returned.  There was a long pause and she said, “I’m sorry, did we decide who’s starting?”

“I’ll just do it,” Jughead said.  “Um, what are you wearing?”

Betty looked down at her ratty tshirt and underwear. Well, fuck.

“That red lingerie you like,” she lied.  “The lacy ones.”  She hesitated for a moment before adding, “And heels.”

“You’re wearing heels?”

“Okay, fine.  I’m not wearing heels.  But I am wearing that lingerie.”

In reality, that lingerie was very much ruined in the drier, but he didn’t need to know that.  “What are you wearing?”

“Boxers and my _More Cowbell_ shirt.”

Betty snorted and said, “Very sexy.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly know we were going to do this.”

“Fair point.  Okay, um, take off your shirt.”

“Only if you take off that bra.”

Betty laughed nervously.  “Well, aren’t we bossy.”  It actually was somewhat cold in her room, so she kept her shirt on, figuring there was no harm since he couldn’t see her.  She wasn’t wearing a bra, so technically it wasn’t a lie when she said, “Bra off.  What next?”

“I’m kissing your neck.”  She closed her eyes, trying to imagine his mouth against her skin. It wasn’t an entirely foreign concept as she’d done this before alone in her room, muffling her release into her pillow. She had trouble focusing, but tried anyway as he continued. 

“My hands are on your breasts.  Just how you like it.”

Betty pushed her shirt up and followed his lead, trying to recreate the sensation, but it fell short.  She felt ridiculous, writhing in her bed with a disembodied voice in her ear. Despite her reservations, maybe it would work better if she could actually see him.  She sat up and pulled her shirt down irritably.

“Jug, hold on.  This isn’t working.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“I’m going to hang up and call you back, okay?”

She didn’t wait for his response before hanging up and calling him again with Facetime.  He answered the call and she felt the tightness in her chest release slightly when she saw him.  It took her a moment to notice that he was still wearing his shirt.

“Hey, I thought I told you to take that off,” she said.

“Very sexy lingerie, Betts,” he teased.  “I always found your _Mertz Till It Hurts_ t-shirt a real turn-on.”

“We’re both very bad at this,” she said with resignation.

“Then let’s not do it.”

“No, we need to keep our spark alive!”

“Our what?”

“Our spark,” Betty repeated.  “It’s really easy for long distance couples to lose that, and I don’t want you to go and fall in love with a Joffrey ballet dancer, so we need to do this!”

“I’m pretty sure the Joffrey Ballet is in Chicago.”

 “I don’t want us to lose our spark, Jug.  I keep hearing about all these amazing couples losing who they are, and I don’t want that to happen to us.  You’re too important to me.  So, please, let’s just try to do this?”

“Okay,” he said simply.  “Let’s do this.  Take your shirt off.”

“What?  No, you go first.”

“Are we seriously doing this again?”

“I’m nervous,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and then forcing herself to uncross them and place them at her sides.  She took a deep breath and said, “Just, you go first, okay?  Ease me into it?”

He laughed slightly and said, “I love you so much right now.”

Betty’s heart rate quickened in a manner entirely unrelated to her nerves.  “I love you, too.  Now, your shirt.  Off.”

He placed his phone on the bed and she watched him pulled his shirt over his head.  He picked up his phone again and asked, “Happy?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay, your turn.”

“Just so you know, I don’t have a bra to take off. Only this shirt.”

Jughead nodded slowly and said, “You’ve literally never said anything sexier.  Go on.”

She laughed and was about to set her phone down when her bedroom door suddenly opened and Reggie barged in, asking if she had any sheet masks that he could use.  She panicked, throwing her phone away from her, and unfortunately for her and Jughead, toward Reggie.  He picked up her phone with an off-handed, “Why are you so easily startled?”

“Why don’t you knock?!”

Betty watched in absolute horror as Reggie glanced down at her phone and caught site of who was on her screen.  Reggie grinned wide and said, “Hey dude!  What’s going on?”

“Um, not much.”

“Why are you half-naked?”

The answer came to Reggie half a second after he asked the question, and he looked with wide eyes between the phone, Betty, the phone and Betty again.  He carefully set the phone back on the bed and said, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt.  Carry on.”

He backed his way out of the room and closed the door with a sharp thud.  Betty picked up her phone and said, “I definitely cannot do this now.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

 

* * *

 

            The next afternoon, Betty was busy working on some edits on a piece for work when there was a knock on the door.  She finished a sentence before getting up and answering the door, not quite believing her eyes when she saw Jughead. Her disbelief only lasted for a few seconds before she flung herself toward him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.  He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he murmured, “Hi Betty.”

            She pulled back slightly and asked, “What are you doing here?”

            “I thought I’d go on a little drive.”

            “It’s five hours.”

            He shrugged and said, “It’s worth it to see you.”

            Betty shook her head, her hands still clasped behind his back, and asked, “Are you sure you can afford all this time away? You were just telling me how busy you were.”

            “I’m up to date on all my classes.  Besides, after yesterday I thought it might be good to actually see you.”

            Betty flushed.  “I’m sorry.  I feel so stupid about all of that.  Some of Veronica’s friends were going on about the spark and they got in my head.”

            “They weren’t entirely wrong.”

            Betty was surprised by his words and said, “They weren’t?”

            “Let’s sit down.”

            He reached back and took a hold of one of her hands, leading her to the couch.  They sat down and she wondered suddenly if this was going to be a different sort of talk.  She was comforted slightly by the fact that he didn’t let go of her hand. 

            “They’re absolutely right that there is an intangible part of a relationship.  A spark.  But, where they went wrong is thinking that it has to be sexual.  Don’t get me wrong, I like being with you.  I really like it.  But, it’s not the most important part of us to me.  Not even close.  To me, it’s sharing my day with you.  It’s arguing about the best season of _The Office_.  It’s all those little moments that made me fall in love with you.  And those moments make our spark, Betty.”

            Betty leaned forward and kissed him, wondering what she had done right to end up with someone like him.  Jughead kissed her back softly, his hands palming her waist.  They stayed that way for a while, before Betty pulled away and said, “I know we just established that sex is not the most important part of our relationship, but…”

            “You want to do it now?”

            “Yeah.”

            Jughead grinned and asked, “Your room or mine?”  


	14. Chapter 14

Betty walked out of her bedroom, stifling a yawn with the sleeve of her polka dot pajama set, when she stopped short and looked over at the living room, wondering why Reggie was lifting their exceedingly heavy coffee table as Archie stood at the side with what looked like a large rolled-up rug.  Reggie’s breath came out in short spurts, face scrunched up with determination as he said, “I can’t get it any higher.  Roll it out, dude.”

            Archie crouched down and assessed the space with which he had to unroll the carpet.  “Are you sure you can’t get a little higher?” 

            “You want to switch places?”  Reggie bit out.

            “I just can’t unroll the rug.  The table isn’t high enough.”

            “Just make it work, dude!”

            “Fine, but I hope you know this is going to be subpar carpet placement.”

            Betty watched Archie unroll the carpet to the side and then get on all fours as he pushed it under the carpet.  Reggie began to make disgruntled noises above him, his face turning red, and said, “Can you go any faster?”

            “You try inching a rug this size under a coffee table _barely_ off the ground!”

            “I told you I can’t lift it any higher!”

            Archie got the last bit under and quickly darted around the other side and tugged at the rug until the edges were even.  “Almost there,” he said, darting over to the other side to check his work. He nodded contently and said, “Okay, it’s good.  Drop it.”

            Reggie set the coffee table down with a loud thud and grimaced as he stretched his arms out behind him.  He swung his arms back to his side and looked down at the table, assessing their work before turning to Archie with a jovial, “Looks great, man.  I think this is our best one yet.”

            Archie nodded in agreement and said, “We didn’t center it last time, and, you know, I think she noticed.”

            “She did.  Brought it up at Christmas, actually.”

            “I love your Mom.”

            Betty thought this was a perfect moment to announce her presence, and loudly said, “Hi, anyone care to tell me what’s going on?”

            “Betty, you’re up!”  Reggie said happily.  “Perfect timing.”

            “Why do we suddenly have an area rug that doesn’t match anything in our living room?”

            “I feel like that’s a matter of opinion,” Reggie said, as Archie piped in, “But it’s nicely centered, yeah?”

            Betty looked around the living room, noticing that there were many new items suddenly gracing their home.  She walked over to a lamp with three see-no-evil-etc. monkeys as a base, and murmured, “Please explain this?”

            “My mom is visiting from California,” Reggie said.  “She hasn’t been in town since you’ve lived with us, but she sends me a lot of stuff for the loft –“

            “Oh, so that’s why you get so many boxes from HomeGoods,” Betty said with realization.

             “-and whenever she visits I put it all out.”

            “That’s sort of sweet of you,” Betty said.  “And a lot of unnecessary work.  Do you really think she’d notice?”

            Reggie laughed loudly and said, “Oh Betty.  Sweet, naïve, little Betty.”

            “Okay, I’m getting that she notices.”

            “She doesn’t just notice,” Reggie said with a solemn shake of his head. “She _takes_ note, so she can pepper it into future conversations and guilt trip you into spending Cinco de Mayo 2012 at a poorly lit dim sum place in San Francisco.”

            “That was the first time Jughead blacked out,” Archie said nostalgically.

            “I vowed to never miss another important milestone of this loft,” Reggie said with a dash too much conviction. 

            “Doesn’t she realize that it literally matches nothing?”  Betty pointed out.

            “Penelope Mantle only sees what she wants to see,” Reggie said with a begrudging shrug.  “And, what she wants to see is a happy and adjusted son, which she equates with kitschy home décor.  She birthed me, so the least I can do is oblige.”

            “It’s too early in the morning to use birth as a noun,” Betty said, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.  “I’m getting coffee.”

            She trudged over to the kitchen, not noticing that Reggie trailed after her. She was midway through pouring herself a cup of coffee when she noticed Reggie’s attentive gaze.  She knew that look.  It was the one he always got before telling her something that would make her angry.  She chose to take several gulps of coffee before asking, “What did you do?”

            “Now, please remember that I made myself remarkably scarce when your mother visited.  It was like I didn’t even exist!”

            “Okay,” she said warily.

            “And I didn’t try to sleep with Veronica after you set us up last year. Even when I really, _really_ wanted to.”

            “You’re losing points.  Get to one, please.”

            Reggie took a deep breath and said, “I told my mom that we were dating and I need you to play along today.”

            Betty didn’t quite know how to react, but settled on a bark of laughter. Reggie, undeterred, continued with, “It’ll only be for a few hours.  And my mom still thinks that I’m a devout Christian like her, so we won’t have to discuss any bedroom stuff with her.”

            “Why would we discuss bedroom stuff with your mother anyway?”  Betty asked with mild outrage.

            “We’re close.”

            “That still doesn’t-“

            “I don’t make the rules, I just play by them, Elizabeth!”

            Betty shook her head, trying to decide what in the litany of crazy she was just met with was the most concerning.  Reggie watched her closely, perking up each time she went to speak, and then deflating when she chose not to. 

            Finally, she asked, “Why don’t you just tell her the truth?”

            “I don’t want to disappoint her,” Reggie said in a surprisingly vulnerable tone. “She sacrificed so much for me growing up and all she wanted in return was for her son to be a good person, go to medical school and have a family.”

            Betty considered that and said, “Well, you have one out of the three.”

            “I can’t fake medical school,” Reggie said resolutely.  “I tried and it’s actually really difficult to find a medical school that will let you buy a spot in their graduation.”  Betty gave him a strange look.   “But, I can fake a girlfriend.  So, will you help a brother out?”

            Betty looked over at Archie, who gave her a thumbs up, and sighed. “Fine.”

* * *

 

            Jughead sat in his dorm room, trying unsuccessfully to finish up his latest writing assignment, when he got a Facetime call on his computer.  He clicked into the call, smiling when Betty’s face filled his screen.

            “Hey Betts,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. 

            “You look tired,” she noted.  “Too much partying?”

            “Oh yeah.  Keg stands. Beer pong.  Whatever else…happens at a party…”

             “I’m a little embarrassed for your night life right now.”

            Jughead laughed and said, “Coming from the girl who routinely goes to bed at 10:30.”

            “10:00,” Betty corrected.  “I’ve gotten really into sleep hygiene recently.”

            Jughead shook his head slowly and said, “I can’t believe I didn’t know that. What else is new?”

            He watched her settle further into her bed as she said, “Well…where to even begin…”

            “That much, huh?”

            “Archie switched soymilk brands.”

            “No way,” he said with mock wonder.

            “Yeah, it was a pretty big moment for the loft.  We upgraded our cable package.  Oh, and how could I forget, Reggie and I are apparently dating.”

            Jughead leaned forward and asked, “Wait, what?”

            “I learned today that he has been telling his mother that we are dating for about half a year now.”

            “You probably could have led with this instead of Archie’s soy milk brand change,” Jughead offered.

            “His mom is visiting today and I agreed to play along.”

            “Wow.  Promise to not fall in love with him along the way, okay?”

            Betty shook her head slowly and murmured, “You know I can’t promise you that.”

            Jughead laughed and said, “I really miss you.”

            Someone knocked on Betty’s door and she said, “That’s probably my future mother-in-law.”

            “Give Penelope my best.”

            Betty grinned and said, “Now remember, this doesn’t mean I love you any less.  I have more than enough love to go around.”

            “Please make Reggie at least a little uncomfortable for me.”

            “Well, that goes without saying.”  There was a second loud knock on her door.  “Gotta go.  Love you.”

            Betty closed her laptop screen and hopped off her bed, giving herself a fleeting look in the mirror to make sure everything was in place before opening her door.  It turned out to be Reggie himself at her door, and she asked, “Is your mom here?”

            “No and thank God,” he said, taking in her outfit with what appeared to be a look of horror.  “Didn’t I say to stay away from pastels?”

            Betty narrowed her eyes.  “No, you didn’t.  You said stay away from yellow.  Which, for the record, was very hard.  I have a lot of really good yellow dresses-“

            “This is a disaster.  We need to sell this, Betty.  And she will never buy that I would date someone who wears pastels.  It clashes with my skin tone!”

            “You cannot be serious,” Betty said, watching Reggie walk over to her closet and begin going through her dresses, making not so subtle comments under his breath about the ones he didn’t like.  He pulled out a dress she wore on one of her early dates with Jughead and said, “What about this?”

            Betty didn’t particularly enjoy being told what to do, especially by someone who was literally wearing a bow tie in the middle of summer, and she crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest.  “I’m not changing.”

            “Betty-“

            “Wouldn’t your mother want you to be with a strong, independent woman who didn’t let her boyfriend dictate what she wore?”

            She could tell by the way his face fell that she backed him into a corner. She took his silence as a victory and said, “Can you just trust that I will be a good fake girlfriend?  I’m sort of an expert when it comes to meeting parents. They love me.”  She paused for a moment and said, “Or, crazy idea, you could just tell her the truth.”

            “Nope.  That’s not happening,” Reggie said quickly.  His phone buzzed and he quickly checked his messages.  “She’s on her way up.”  He turned to leave, but cast one last lingering look at her dress.  “Are you sure you don’t-“

            “Absolutely not.”

            “Okay,” he said quickly.  “Show time.”

            Betty followed Reggie out in the living room, noticing how nervous Reggie seemed about it all.  Her eyes caught on the horrendous rug beneath their coffee table and she thought to herself how much of a farce the day really was.  For the record, Penelope Mantle did not seem to care a bit.  She was a small Filipino woman wearing one of those smart middle-aged outfits that you just knew came from Chico’s.  She smelled like flowers and powder, the smell clogging Betty’s nose as Penelope crushed her in a tight hug.

            “Oh dear, it is so great to finally meet you,” Penelope said, beaming up at her. “And Reginald, that carpet looks marvelous.  You styled it very well.”

            “Thanks Mom,” Reggie said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Do you need anything to drink?  We pretty much have it all.”

            “Water, please.”

            Penelope settled on one of the kitchen counter stools and grabbed Betty’s arm as she went to help Reggie with the water.  She leaned in conspiringly and said, “Sit with me, Betty.  I want to hear all about how you and Reginald met.”

            “Oh, um, it’s a great story,” Betty said slowly, sitting next to her.  She looked over at Reggie, who now apparently found the faucet very interesting.  Betty bookmarked a complaint about that for later, and set a placid smile on her face. “We met at a grocery store down here. Both of us reaching for the same peach. Classic meet cute.”

            “Oh yes,” Penelope enthused.

            “He insisted that I take the peach.  I said he should take it.  We went back and forth.”

            “And then, someone _else_ took the peach,” Reggie added from the faucet.

            Betty smiled tightly at Reggie’s unnecessary – and complicating – contribution and said, “Yes.  Someone _else_ took our peach.  It was very dramatic.”

            “It got physical,” Reggie added. 

            “It got physical?”  Penelope said with surprise.

            “Oh yeah, LA peaches during summer are a hot commodity.”    

            Betty turned back to Reggie and sharply said, “Hey, babe, do you just want to tell this story?”

            “No, you’re doing great.”  He saw Betty’s glare and said, “I’ll stop interrupting.  You just tell it.”

            “Thanks.  So, um, after a _slight_ physical altercation with the other peach person – very slight, like, almost didn’t happen slight - Reggie and I talked.  We hit it off.  And, bam, the rest is history!”

            “What a story,” Penelope said, smiling at Reggie as he handed her the glass of water.  “It’s almost unbelievable.”

            Betty gave her first genuine smile of the afternoon as she said, “Right?”

            Penelope took a sip of water and then asked, “So Betty, dear, how long have you and Jughead been dating?”

            Without thinking, Betty said, “Just over a year.”

            She froze, realizing what she said, and went to rectify it – Reggie similarly launching into an explanation – when Penelope held up a silencing hand and said, “I know you two are not dating.”

            “What?  How?” Reggie asked.

            “For starters, that story,” Penelope said with a slight grin.  “Also, I’m on Facebook.”

            “You’re on Facebook?”  Reggie asked incredulously.

            “Yes and you have very lax privacy settings, sweetheart.  You should probably look into that.”

            Reggie leaned heavily against the counter.  “So, you knew?  All this time?”

            “I was waiting for you to give up the charade,” Penelope said.  She looked at Betty and said, “By the way, you and Jughead make a very handsome couple.  But Reginald, I just don’t see why you felt the need to lie to me all this time. Did I really put that much pressure on you to find someone?  Because, if I did-“

            “No, you didn’t,” Reggie said quickly.  “It’s not that.  It just always seemed like what you wanted for me, and I didn’t want you to worry. I thought if you saw I was in a committed relationship, you wouldn’t worry.”

            “It is very sweet of you to shield me like that, but not at your own expense.”

            “Oh, believe me, it hasn’t been at his expense,” Betty said.  “At all.”

            Penelope smirked.   “I’m glad. Now, are we still planning on dinner? I’m starved.”

            Reggie nodded.  “I made us reservations downtown.”

            Penelope turned her attention to Betty and said, “You are more than welcome, but would you mind if we kept this to just me and my son?”

            “Not at all.  You two enjoy.”

            They moved from their stools and Penelope gave her a quick hug.  When she pulled away she said, “It’s a shame Reginald didn’t find you first.  You’re a good one.”

            Betty reeled in a goading look that she wanted to send Reggie at that, and simply responded with, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had about 70% of this written weeks ago and then lost steam there at the end. Hence the quick reveal and ending. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoyed it!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of a time jump. I didn't totally work out the math, but let's say 6 months from the last chapter.

Five hours and six cups of coffee later, Betty finally arrived in Cancun, her suit case squeaking noisily behind her as she made her way through the airport.  Her phone was dead in her pocket, a dusty white phone charger clutched tightly in her palm.  She searched for an outlet, futilely trying to think of the equivalent Spanish word. Thankfully, a shitty iPhone battery was a universal language, and a kind older woman tapped Betty on the shoulder and gestured toward a cluster of outlets just outside the gate.

“Oh, thank you,” Betty said, her anxiety levels plummeting just at the sight of outlets. 

The woman only smiled knowingly and disappeared into the crowd.  Betty hurried over to the outlets and plugged in her phone, waiting anxiously for it to restart.  The ubiquitous apple flashed on her screen and then faded into her home screen, her and Jughead’s faces beaming up at her.  An icon popped up on the screen – obscuring hers and Jughead’s noses – and reflected several missed calls from the same man, and one text that read:

 

_You’re not allowed to skip out on your parent’s wedding.  
Even if it is the second one._

            Betty grinned and dialed his number.  He answered after the first ring and she said, “I’m a little offended that you thought I was skipping out on this weekend.”

            “It was a joke.”

            “Oh, is that what they’re teaching you at Georgetown?  You deserve more for the price of your tuition.”

            “I do have to applaud your parents for doing a destination wedding.  Normally, I hate them, but I really needed a vacation.”

            Betty smirked.  “I’m so glad their wedding met your needs.”

            “Me too.”

            Suddenly, she felt him behind her, and when she looked over her shoulder there he was, looking perfectly airplane-rumpled in simple black jeans and a grey t-shirt.  She sprang to her feet and threw her arms around him, melting against his body as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

They stayed that way for arguably an uncomfortable amount of time for any observer, but neither cared.  They hadn’t seen each other in over three months, and while phone calls and Skype were great, it didn’t make up for actually being together, t-shirt twisted in her fist as they fought back the width of their smiles.

            He pressed a soft kiss against her lips and she fought the natural instinct to deepen it, instead, letting her lips brush lightly against his before pulling back.  He glanced over her shoulder and asked, “How much longer until your phone is charged?”

            “I think another five minutes should have it good enough.”  She reached behind her for his hands, interlacing her fingers with his and dropping them to her sides.  “You know how I practiced all my emergency words in Spanish?”

            Jughead nodded with a bemused look and said, “Yes, and I still find it funny that _outlet_ is one of your emergency words.”

            “Being stranded in a foreign country without a working phone is an emergency,” Betty said sensibly.  “Anyway, I got here with my dead phone, and completely blanked. Luckily, someone saw my desperation and pointed me over here.”

            “That story was very touch and go,” Jughead returned with feigned solemnity, to which Betty retorted, “Without this outlet you would have never known I landed.  So, this story really culminates in your benefit.”

            “You’re right, I am very grateful for this outlet.” He slid his arms around her waist. “And very glad that you are here.” He pulled her against him again and murmured, “I really missed you, Betts.”

            “The long distance won’t be forever.”

            “Three more months,” Jughead said.

            She pressed her cheek against his chest and murmured, “Three more months.”

            After a moment Betty pulled away and said, “My phone should be good now.  You know, I’m actually surprised my mom hasn’t called me yet wondering where I am.“ Her phone lit up, Alice’s name appearing on the screen, “There it is.”

            She picked up her phone and said, “Hi Mom.  I just landed.”

            “Oh good,” Alice said.  “Your dad and I are at the resort.  The lobby was renovated since we booked, they put in these awful marble tiles, but I had them walk me through the terrace where the wedding will take place, and everything seems in order.  Frankly, they over-sold the ocean view, but-”

            “It’s going to be beautiful, Mom,”  Betty said, knowing that if she didn’t stop her mother’s train of criticism, it would never end.

            “It better be for what we’re paying.”

            “We’re just leaving the airport now.  Jug and I should be there in about a half hour, okay?”

            “Okay.  I’ll see you soon, sweetie.”

            “Bye Mom.”

            Betty hung up and Jughead asked, “Everything okay?”

            “She’s being overly critical, which, honestly, means things are right on track.  You ready to go?”

            “Yeah.”

            They headed toward the exit, Jughead catching her hand with his as they walked.  They found a cab and after parking their luggage in the trunk, slid into the back seat. As they drove, he asked, “How are you doing?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “It has to be sort of weird seeing them get married again.  I know you’ve never been totally comfortable with them being back together.”

            “I’m getting every divorced kid’s fantasy.” Betty said.

            “Yeah, it doesn’t mean it’s yours.”

            Betty shrugged, looking out the window.  “I just want my Mom to be happy and she is. So, I’m good.”

            He didn’t say anything in response, but placed his hand on her knee and gave it a soft squeeze.

 

* * *

 

            Even after over a year of him being back in her life, Betty still had difficulty being completely relaxed around her father. It wasn’t by any fault of his. Hal Cooper was nothing but a model father after he returned to her life.  He called at least once a week and sent cards for the appropriate holidays. He clearly took note of her life, and peppered conversation with thoughtful questions about her job, roommates and Jughead.  For all intents and purposes, Hal Cooper appeared to be a changed man.  She just had trouble believing it would last. 

             If nothing else, her mother did not share that concern.  While Alice was clearly nervous about her upcoming nuptials, she also never seemed happier.  Her nervous energy teemed with a sort of frenzied radiance.  She was careening toward her happy ending.  Currently, that nervous energy was being directed toward the catering for the rehearsal dinner.

            “I specifically asked for no walnuts,” Alice said, stabbing a frosty white nail in the direction of the salad plates on the table. Atop the mixed greens was an unmistakable sprinkle of walnuts. 

            “I am so sorry,” the waiter sputtered, whisking away the nearest offender.  “We’ll fix this right away.”

            Betty tentatively walked over to Alice and said, “Hi Mom.”

            Alice brightened at the sight of her daughter and she swept her into a tight hug.  “I’m so happy to see you.  How was your flight?”

            “It was good.”

            “Where’s Jughead?  Don’t tell me he had some _grad school_ emergency.”

            Alice’s used air quotes to emphasize her dislike of Jughead’s graduate pursuits. 

            “Mom, don’t start.”

When Jughead first moved to Washington, Alice seemed more put out than her own daughter.  And she did not attempt to hide it.

            _“He writes for a living.  Why is he going to uproot himself – and your happiness – to go learn what he’s already doing?”_

            Betty explained to Alice that this was an incredible opportunity for Jughead to expand his skills and network with key figures in the literary world, and when that didn’t work, Betty made Alice promise that they wouldn’t discuss it.  Alice agreed for approximately one week.

            “Jughead is bringing our bags upstairs,” Betty said. “And he is very happy at Georgetown. One of his short stories was just workshopped by Salman Rushdie.”

            Alice’s eyes widened.  “Why in the world would someone name their son after a fish?”

            Betty was thankfully saved from answering that question when Hal arrived, giving Alice a quick kiss before pulling Betty in for a somewhat uncomfortable, albeit warm, hug.  He kissed her cheek and said, “I’m so glad you’re here with us to celebrate, Betty.”

            “You can’t very well miss your own parent’s wedding,” Betty returned, rocking a bit on her heels.  She looked around for Jughead, wishing he was around to fill the silence.  He was always good at stepping in when she was socially floundering.  Thankfully, something else distracted away from the silence.

            “Are those walnuts?”  Hal said, doing a double take at one of the salad plates.  He looked over at Alice.  “We said no walnuts, right?”

            Betty looked between her parents and thought, _maybe they’ll make it this time after all._

* * *

 

            In the hours before the rehearsal dinner, the rest of the wedding party filtered in to the resort, Polly juggling a tempermental Skye and her new six-month old, Ginny.  Polly was only too happy to hand Ginny over to Betty at the rehearsal dinner, rummaging in her bag to pull out a small package of Easy Mac. 

            “Why do you have Easy Mac in your bag?”  Betty asked, bouncing Ginny on her knee.

            “Because Skye has decided that she only eats Easy Mac,” Polly said.  “I fought it initially, but at some point you just run out of energy.  Besides, serving your kid Easy Mac is more socially acceptable than starving them.” 

            “I would believe that.”

            Polly flagged down the nearest waiter and said, “I need you to put this in a microwave in the back.”

            The waiter swallowed uncomfortably and said, “Oh, Ms. –“

            “Let me stop you right there,” Polly said in a measured voice, holding up one hand.  “I know you’re about to tell me that you don’t have a microwave in the back. Which we both know isn’t true. And if we don’t get some Easy Mac here soon, my four year old is going to throw a tantrum that will make you consider sterilization, and once it starts, even Easy Mac can’t really stop it, so-“

            The waiter grabbed the Easy Mac and stammered, “I’ll be right back.”

            “Thank you.”  

            “Your mom voice is very effective,” Betty noted. “It’s like a super power.”

            “I only use it for good.”

            Jughead took his seat beside Betty and said, “So, I just talked your dad’s siblings out of a pretty savage roast they had planned. You can thank me later.”

            “Was it Uncle Jeff’s idea?”  Polly asked knowingly.  “I bet it was Uncle Jeff’s idea.”

            “I don’t know who the mastermind was, but their set for some reason involved a blow-up doll.”

            Betty nodded.  “Definitely Uncle Jeff.”

            Jughead settled in his seat and turned his attention to the tiny guest seated next to him.  “Well hello there, Skye.”

            “I don’t like it here,” she returned unhappily, arms crossed tightly over her chest.  “I wanna go home.”

            Betty leaned forward and said, “You can’t go home yet!  We’re here for grandma and grandpa’s wedding.  Don’t you want to see that?”

            “No.  And I’m hungry.”

            As if on cue, the waiter returned with the Easy Mac and set it in front of Skye.  Jughead looked at in with confusion as Skye dug a fork much too big for her hand into the container, and then shrugged, not interested enough to follow-up.

            A half hour or so later, the toasts began.  Hal’s siblings went first, and although they nixed the roasting idea, they still did manage to get in a few jokes that made the entire room uncomfortable.  Polly said a few words and Ginny screeched loudly, twisting in Betty’s arms until Polly reached over and took her, bouncing her on her hip as she finished her speech.  Hal spoke last.

            “Alice and I want to thank you all for being here with us. We never thought we’d be back here. I never thought I’d be so lucky. Twenty years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life.  And, somehow, I was given the opportunity to make that right.”  He glanced down at Alice.  “She gave me the opportunity.  Alice, I can never thank you enough for what you have given me. And I can never tell you enough just how much I love you.  You are my best friend.  My partner. I don’t deserve you, Alice.  But, I promise, I will spend every day that we have left together trying to prove to you that I do.  I love you.”

            Betty watched her mother return the words quietly, surprised to find her own eyes brimming with tears.  Jughead took her hand under the table and squeezed it gently. 

 

* * *

 

            Later that night, Betty settled in bed, scrolling through old pictures on her phone as the television played softly in the background. Jughead was out with Hal and his brothers, an odd turn of events that played out following the rehearsal dinner.  Betty told Jughead to go have fun, saying that she would entertain herself with the minibar in their room. Polly joined her for a drink or two, but the wine had an immediate sedative effect on the mother of two, and she left for her own room before midnight.  Betty was just about to drift off to sleep when there was a knock on her door.

            Betty stood up and walked over to the door, nerves crackling in her chest from all the A&E true murder shows she’d been watching on the television.  She looked through the peep hole and her nerves settled when she saw Alice.  Betty opened the door and said, “Hey Mom.”

            “Can I come in?”

            Betty stepped back, noticing that Alice’s hair was mussed, like she’d been tossing and turning in her bed.  She wore the robe from her room, the white terry cloth making her tanned skin appear even darker.  Alice took a few strides in each direction before turning toward the bed abruptly and sitting down.

            “Mom, what’s going on?”

            Alice was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Am I making a mistake?”

            “What?  Mom-“

            “Your father talks a lot about how much it means to him that I gave him a second chance.  How good of a person I am.  But, what if he’s wrong?  What if I’m just stupid?”

            “Where is this coming from?”  Betty asked, sitting next to her.  “You seemed so happy before.”

            “I was trying to sleep and I kept thinking about before.  When he left.”  Betty nodded. “I didn’t know that it could hurt so much.  _Physically_ hurt.  It was like he ripped my heart out of my chest.  I don’t know if I can go through that again, Betty.  I really don’t think I can.”

            Betty thought carefully about what she said, wanting to make sure she not only chose the right words, but that she believed them. 

            “You know that I have never been completely on-board for you two being together again,” Betty said.  “And I’m still…I’m working on it.  But, when I was having doubts, when I was afraid he’d hurt us again, do you remember what you told me?”

            Alice nodded slowly.  “That he could hurt us again.”

            “Right, but also, he could not and –“

            “We could be a family again,” Alice finished, wiping at her nose. 

             Betty’s phone rang on the nightstand, and her gaze lingered on her mother’s face for a moment before she stood and grabbed her phone, surprised to see Jughead’s name flashing on the screen.  Betty answered, Alice not paying much attention until Betty loudly said, “He’s in the Emergency Department?”

 

* * *

 

            The local hospital was filled with the normal host of patients seen in a vacationing town.  Broken arms from drunken falls.  Unfortunate individuals with unknown shellfish allergies.  Hal’s injury, however, was somewhat unusual.

            “You got yourself hit in the eye with a dart the night before our wedding?!”  Alice said loudly.

            “It’s not like I meant to,” Hal mumbled.

            “In Hal’s defense, there were some shots involved,” Jughead said.  When Betty sent him a death glare, he said, “It wasn’t my idea!”

            The two women shifted their gaze to Hal’s brothers, and one of them said, “Yeah, this is sort of on us.  Sorry about that.”

            Betty shook her head and murmured, “We should have just let them do their roast.”

            “The positive news is that it is only a corneal abrasion,” Jughead said.  “So, no permanent damage.”

            “And…” Betty asked leadingly, sensing that there was some corresponding bad news.

            “He needs to keep the eye closed for at least twenty-four hours.”

            Alice pointed at Hal’s eyepatch and said, “Are you telling me that he has to wear _that_ at our wedding?”

            “Doctor’s orders,” Jughead said.

            “I’m so sorry, Alice,” Hal said.  “I should have known with my bad hand-eye coordination _and_ reflexes that darts was a bad idea, but I…” he trailed off when Alice began to laugh, the sound gradually building until she was bent before, shoulders shaking.  “Um, Alice?”

            She continued to laugh hysterically, Betty beginning to worry about her mother’s mental well-being as she gingerly tapped her arm and said, “Mom?  You’re sort of freaking us out here.”

            Alice straightened up, fanning herself with her hand as she said, “I have not laughed like that in years.” 

            “Do we need a doctor to see _you_?”  Betty asked off-handedly.

Alice stepped forward and took Hal’s hand in hers.  “Come on, we have a wedding in the morning.”

            Hal’s eyes widened suddenly and he said, “Wait, isn’t it bad luck for me to see you now?”

            “We’ve had enough bad luck to last us a life time, Hal. I think we’ll be okay just this once.”

 

* * *

 

            For all the misadventures that preceded it, Alice and Hal Cooper’s second wedding went on without a hitch.  The string quartet played beautifully – even when one of the violins popped a string – and not a walnut was in sight.  Before Alice walked down the aisle, she turned to Betty and gripped her hand tightly as she said, “Thank you for last night.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “I have hope,” she said with a soft smile.  “I really do, Betty.”

            Betty squeeze her mother’s hand and said, “I’m glad.”

            An hour or so later, Betty sat beside Jughead, watching her parents share their second-first-dance.  She leaned against Jughead and said, “My mom and I were talking before she walked down the aisle.”

            “Yeah?”

            “She told me she had hope.  For her and my dad.  She had hope that they’d make it.”

            He looked over at her.  “And you?”

            Betty turned her gaze back to her parents.  “I want to.”

            They were quiet for a moment, until he casually said, “I’ve never understood weddings.”

            “Why not?”

            “We didn’t really do them in my family.  Not like this, at least.  It seems like a lot of work for a pretty simple thing.”

            “That thing being?”

            “Love.  It doesn’t a lot.  When done right, it’s pretty fantastic on its own.”

            Betty laughed.  “That may be the most romantic _unromantic_ thing you’ve ever said, Jughead.”

            “Anyway, the point I was getting to, is that I get it now.  Seeing how everyone came together for your parents.  It’s pretty great.”

            Betty looked up at him.   “So you could see yourself having one of these?”

            “Sure, if it’s the right person.”

            “Still looking?”  Betty teased.

            “You know, I met this girl, and we’re doing this long-distance thing right now.  But after? I guess you never know.”

            Betty could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. “Yeah, I guess you never know.”

             


End file.
